#werepanther! Billy Russo

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Teeth

Part 22

Werpanther! Billy Russo x Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: Smut, smut, and more smut. Pool sex, and a sprinkle of a dominance kink. There is also actual plot I'm not insane.

A/N: I'm in so much pain right now.

You move up to him quietly, a gentle hand to the smooth skin of his back.

He turns his head to face you, eyes still closed, a sleepy smile curving onto his mouth.

You kneel in front of him, your fingers moving up to delve into his hair, hearing him groan makes you smile.

You stay there like that for a while, memorising the feel of his soft hair, the bristle of his beard along the backs of your fingers, and when you feel like you’re about to burst, you finally open your mouth to speak.

And then you pause, what if he just denied it? This was probably a big secret for him, something he might not be ready to reveal to you.

Should you wait?

Could you? Knowing what you know now, could you honestly remain quiet about it?

What would be the harm in keeping what you know to yourself?

You can’t decide on what to do, but you know you at least have to try now, or else it would affect the way you acted around him.

If he denied it, you would just let it go.

“Billy?” You finally say, soft and calm so that he gets an idea of how not upset you are.

His eyes remain closed, but his eyebrows raise as he makes a sound of inquiry at the back of his throat.

You study his gorgeous sleepy face, still not completely sure you want to speak.

“I know your secret.” You rush out.

Surprisingly, he makes a sound of amusement, a short laugh that has you questioning yourself.

“What secret is that, sweetheart?” He asks huskily, his low voice barely above a whisper.

You rub your fingers against his stubbled jawline.

“That you’re… the panther.”

His eyes open.

His eyebrows scrunch in confusion, turning his head to get a better look at you.

“What?”

You bite down on your lip for a long second.

“I know- I know that you’re the panther.”

He sits up, confusion fraught in his eyes. It makes you feel a little crazy. Was there any chance that you could be wrong? What if you had dreamt the panther coming to you? What if you were going insane from stress?

“I’m not sure what you mean. Is this code for something?” He remains calm, reaching for your kneeled form to bring you to sit beside him.

“It’s you. It has to be. When I first told you about the panther in the woods, you never- you never questioned me or tried to tell me that it was impossible. You knew, because it was you.”

“The panther that saved you? It’s not impossible, someone could have smuggled an exotic pet into the state, it’s rare, but not impossible.”

“N-no, it wasn’t an animal, it was a person, it was you.”

“Me?” He says incredulously.

You feel like you’re going insane. You close your eyes, gathering your thoughts.

“I get it,” You say calmly, “It’s something you probably never planned to tell me. And I don’t mean to try to force a confession out of you. I guess I’m here if you ever want to talk about… anything you want to talk to me about.”

You look up at him, hoping to earn some sympathy with your soft expression.

You watch the crease between his eyebrows smoothen out, he reaches out to cup your face in his hands.

“I appreciate the invitation.” He murmurs softly, leaning in, his lips brush yours, a slight tease before he presses his mouth fully to yours.

Like every time before, sparks explode in your head.

You sigh into his mouth, tension leaching from your shoulders.

You weren't sure if it was an admission or not, or if he was merely entertaining your accusation to keep you calm, but all of it is washed from your mind at the first touch of his tongue to yours.

God, he kissed like sin, wicked and delectable, threatening to devour you with the very mouth you adored.

You brace your hand behind you for support, to help you press your body more securely to his, his hand against the back of your neck, encouraging you to get as close as you can get.

He makes a small sound, as if he wants to say something, and you part your mouth from his to hear him speak.

“Sure about this?” He checks in.

“You have to ask?” You tease, leaning in to kiss the spot right below his ear.

He groans, tilting his head to give you space.

“I like hearing you say it.” He explains.

You grin into his neck feeling the need to worsen his desire for you.

“Yeah, Billy?” You tease right at the base of his ear, your voice light and flirtatious, “You like hearing me beg? Telling you how badly I want you to bend me over the nearest thing, and fill me with your cock?”

You sigh, kissing his skin, feeling him tug at your hips until you’re sitting in his lap.

“Just thinking about you makes me so wet, I can’t stop thinking about how right you feel when you’re inside me.”

He makes a low sound of frustration, before he grips your ass, rising to a stand.

You gasp, hands wrapping around his shoulders in surprise, your legs doing the same to keep you steady.

You want to ask so many things, like where, and how, as he approaches the door, you wonder what’s the likelihood of him tumbling down the stairs with you in his arms.

He manages to keep you steady with one of his hands, using the other to bring your lips back to his.

“-See, this is what I mean,” You pull back to say to him mid-kiss, “There's no human way you can be holding all of my weight with one hand and going down stairs.”

He laughs.

“I was in the marines, sweetheart, I've carried heavier for longer.”

You groan, frustrated at his lack of admission, leaning in to kiss him more.

At the bottom of the stairs, you're surprised when he doesn't stop at his bed.

“Where're we going?” You ask softly, kissing at his neck and collarbones as he walks, rubbing your body against his happily, after a moment, you tug the shirt of his you were wearing off your body so that you can feel his skin.

“Pool.” He answers, “Been wanting to fuck you in there for a while.”

It makes you giggle, gazing your teeth against his skin, listening to him grunt in pleasure.

.

A soft cry of bliss leaves your mouth, your head tips back against his chest.

“That's it, sweetheart,” he hums, kissing your cheek, “Take me deep like a good girl.”

His words only make you whimper more.

Your hands grip the pool's edge, he's right behind you, one hand plucking at your nipple below the surface of the water, his other hand sliding over your stomach on its way down to most likely touch your clit.

The room is dark, with only the auxiliary lights on, a soft atmosphere all around you.

You say his name, a broken moan as he just keeps filling you, rocking himself deep, taking your thoughts away with each glide of his cock.

You shudder when his fingers finally touch your clit, gentle, almost featherlight, you move one hand from gripping the edge of the pool to delve it into his wet hair.

He breathes roughly against your cheek, tongue darting out to caress the shell of your ear.

“Do you want to come on my cock?” He asks sweetly, tormenting you.

You sigh, nodding vigorously.

“Words.” He scolds.

“Please- make me come.” You beg.

“Is that all you want?” He pushes.

You fight to find sanity enough to respond to him.

“N-no. Want- to feel you come in me too, I want, oh god, I want you.”

He lets out a shaky breath.

“Me?”

“Uh-huh, all of you, everything, please.”

He growls, his both hands move to grip your hips, fingers pressing into your soft flesh, telling you everything you need to know about what he's going to do.

“Hold on.” He says, but you're not really sure where he wants you to hold, and you don't really get a chance to think about it before he pulls you down on his cock while simultaneously pressing up into you. The result is a sensation so full it reaches up to your throat.

The groan that leaves you is uncontrollable, and then he does it again, and again, a small, delicious seed of aching when he fills you to the very brim, your cervix no doubt protesting his length. It's completely overshadowed by the pleasure, the way your body tingles from the tips of your ears to your toes, you shiver, his breathing and the sound of sloshing water in your ears, your shared sounds of pleasure fill the room.

You grip his hair, tugging at his wet strands, toes curling beneath the surface of the water.

It comes slowly, but violently, even the feeling of being on edge makes you mindless. Your body trembles as he keeps going, filling you immeasurably from the inside, promising that this would not be the only time you feel this way.

Your body tenses, clenching around him, your hand curls tighter into his hair, your eyelashes flutter.

A low sound leaves his chest, you can almost feel the vibration of it on your back, a pure, unrestrained sound of desire, downright animalistic in its undertone, pushing you over the edge.

Your body trembles as you feel your center clench tightly around him, your body shaking as your vision darkens, pleasure erupting in your head, spilling past your lips in mindless pants and whines.

You can feel his entire length with the way you squeeze him, and after a few moments, your orgasm triggers his, and his warm cum spills into you, deep, right against that primal spot inside of you that aches for it.

You try to move, to slip off of him, but his hands grip your hips tighter, keeping you in place. When you turn to him for an explanation, he simply pulls you into a slow kiss.

.

He tries to keep you still on his cock, despite your restlessness, his instinct to stay inside of you for a few minutes after he's come overrules his body. You're aching, he can tell, and if he were more predator than man, he would bite your neck to keep you still while his seed takes.

You're soft and sweet and unbelievably human, his kiss distracting you from moving too much while he continues to fill you, everything about him is fixed around you in these small moments.

It's a little easy to keep you distracted, that spaced out look in your eyes makes you more suggestive to his whims, and you go pliant, kissing him softly while he waits for his body to be okay outside of yours.

.

You were growing to learn the things Billy liked about sex, things that made him lose control, things that he always did. For one, he loved hearing you ask for it. You could feel his cock jump in response sometimes when you gave him your explicit consent. It wasn't something you'd encountered before- but there was not much about him you had ever experienced with other men. He was special, in so many ways. The second thing was his desire to stay inside of you each time he came. Each time he filled you up, he held you still on his cock for minutes after. It was strange, But definitely not unwelcome. You thoroughly enjoyed the way he would hold you still, always wanting to squirm a little bit just so he would use force to still you, or find a way to distract you from noticing he was still inside you.

As he kisses you now, you stumble over the thought of, what if it was a panther thing?

He'd denied being the panther, but the things you'd seen- you knew it had to be him.

You draw back, looking over your shoulder, into his eyes for a moment, smiling up at him as your noses brush. It had to be him, it made perfect sense, he'd been trying to protect you this whole time, maybe even from himself.

Your heart warms, something endearing fills you. He was probably afraid to show you who he was, maybe even afraid of your rejection of him.

You needed to show him, that you would never turn away.

Smiling deeper, you tilt your head up.

“You've got a lot of endurance. We've been going at it for a while.”

He hums.

“Tired?” He asks, “If you can't take anymore, just say the word and I'll stop.”

You grin, shaking your head.

“I'm just saying- people don't usually… go for as long as you do, based on common knowledge. It's almost, dare I say, supernatural.”

There's a short pause, before he lets out an amused laugh, the sound sending shivers through you, making you clench around his cock that was still buried deep inside of you.

“I'm very flattered, sweetheart, but I shouldn't get all the credit, you literally make me so hard I can barely think straight.”

“Really?” You say in amused disbelief.

“Course,” he hums, “The way you look at me, the way you act, the way you talk to me- literally drives me fucking insane, and your body- fuck I love your body so much.”

You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief that this was the way he was spinning this.

“You don't believe me?” He asks, misinterpreting your laugh, one hand raising from your hip to run over your stomach, he huffs, blunt nails scraping at your ribs below the water.

“You're so- fucking soft, sweetheart. All I can think about is how badly I want you.”

Your breath hitches turning to look at him.

He smiles down at you, before you feel him tug you gently off his cock. You gasp in surprise when he spins you, and lifts you effortlessly onto the pool’s edge.

“Spread your legs, I want to see my cum drip out of you.”

Your mouth parting in shock, You do what he says without thinking.

You watch him, as he watches you with rapt attention, you feel his cum begin to slowly slip out, you clench to stop it from happening, but it's a little too late.

His eyes darken as he looks between your legs, and then remains dark when he looks up to meet your eyes.

He approaches you slowly, hands pressed to either side of you, his arms flex deliciously as he pushes himself slowly out of the pool, until he's at eye level with you.

You inch backwards, giving him space to climb out, his eyes are so dark, and predatory, fixed on you.

“Alexa,” he says out of nowhere, “moderate rain, please.”

Your mouth drops open as rain begins pattering over your naked skin.

He studies you, inching closer, grinning when he finally towers over you, water cascading down his skin in haphazard rivulets.

“If you let me,” he hums lowly, “I would fuck you on every inch of this house without break, just to feel the way you squeeze my cock when you come all over me.”

With shaky breath, you can only find one word.

“Please.”

.

He'll never get enough. He knows it for sure now. He kisses gently at the soft curve of your thigh while you sleep, your sweet body exhausted from how many times and how many positions he'd made you come in. He reaches up to your hips, eyebrows furrowing in concern as he notes the beginning of a light bruise from him gripping you tightly. He makes a note to get you some ice for it later. He smiles as he rubs his cheek to the soft of your stomach, his own back littered with scratches from your nails, body still swimming in pleasure.

He rises, giving a satisfying stretch, wanting to continue kissing you, but knowing you'll wake up soon and be very hungry. He places one final kiss to your forehead, before tugging on some clothes to start preparing an early dinner.

He's calmly freaking out about the fact that you know he's the predator now, he knows his act of denial isn't fooling you, he's not sure how you came to discover his secret, or how far you plan to push him in your efforts to discover the truth.

He knows that if he really wanted to, he could deny it vehemently, call you crazy, gaslight you into thinking that you'd made it all up- but that would make you hate him, and Billy couldn't bear the thought.

He couldn't come clean either- the more you knew- the more likely it was that you could get hurt.

His best option would be to avoid the topic altogether, switch directions any time you brought it up. He knew though, the first sign of you pulling away from him because of his avoidance would make him crumble.

It would kill him to hurt you.

.

When you wake an hour later, you grab the first thing you can find- a washed out t-shirt of his- slipping it on with a lazy yawn.

You grin when you remember the last 24 hours, the way you went at each other until you were nothing more than sated and exhausted bodies.

You can hear him in the kitchen, moving around, the smell of something delicious and garlic infused wafting through his apartment.

When you catch sight of him, you can't help the smile that pulls onto your face. In an old shirt, similar to the one you were wearing and a pair of sweatpants, he turns when he hears you approach.

“Good evening, sweetheart. How was your nap?”

You hum, smiling.

“Soo good.” You breathe, reaching out to slip an arm around his body, tilting your head and rising onto your toes for a kiss.

He obliges, soft and warm, he presses his lips to yours easily, laughing into your mouth when you don't seem to want to let go.

“What're you making?” You ask, between kisses.

“Honey glazed salmon.” He answers into your mouth.

You hum.

“Excellent meal for cats.” You tease.

There's a small pause before he lets out a low laugh, smacking the cheek of your ass gently in warning.

“Only the best for my favourite pussy.” He jabs back.

You try to ignore the pleasure that goes through your body as he spanks you. It's too gentle to give you a big reaction… but the idea of it…. the possibilities make you shiver.

You can't squash the smile on your face, the happiness you feel as you lean against him, it's the best feeling in the world, to be with him, there’s nothing that compares to it, like everything has been to get you here, beside him.

He says something, and you smile up at him, turning your head to watch him flip the salmon.

.

You're lying down, looking up at the sky. The trees surround your field of view, swaying in the breeze.

You let out a slow breath, relaxed, you turn your head to see that you're lying in a field filled with flowers.

“There you are,” a voice comes from somewhere in the distance, you turn your head the other way to see him slowly approaching. When he gets to the spot you're in, he takes his time sitting beside you.

“I've been looking for you everywhere.”

You wait patiently for him to look over at you. His eyes are dark, nervous, you feel the need to soothe him, dressed in a white shirt tucked into his pants, you notice there are no shoes on either of your feet.

“You found me.” You answer.

He blinks, some of the worry leaves him as he gives you a lazy smile.

“I did.”

He leans over you, a kiss to your cheek, one beside your ear.

“Now I have to figure out how to keep you.” He whispers, and your breath hitches, a slow burn working its way down your body.

“Keep me?” You ask softly, turning to meet his gaze, “Am I worth it?”

He blinks, A look of confusion spreads across his face for the smallest of seconds before he's smiling again.

He leans in, kissing your cheek, your neck, trailing a path over your shoulder. You find yourself tilting your head, allowing him the space to continue.

He pauses, right at the juncture between your neck and shoulders, hesitating before he speaks.

“Nothing on earth could stand against how badly I want you. From the second I found out you were real, I have been bleeding for you. It’s me, who can't hope to be worthy of you.”

You sigh, running your hands through his hair, admiring the way it feels catching on your fingers.

“Do you have a plan then? I know your secret. Would you lose me to keep it?”

He raises his head, meets your eyes, you bring your hand down to cup his jaw, lost in the haziness of the dream.

“I know your secret,” You emphasize, “I saw your teeth with my own eyes, you can’t hide from me, you can only lie.”

He blinks, parts his lips to speak.

You jerk awake when your phone makes a loud alarming sound.

He wakes at the same time you do, his body warm against yours, you reach for your phone as the notification continues to sound.

Your eyes hurt, forcing yourself to look at the screen, to read the words and try to figure out exactly why you’d gotten this alarm.

You grunt angrily, tossing the sheets back and stumbling out of bed.

“You have a security breach.” You grumble, leaving him in search of your laptop.

It’s hard to focus but you force yourself to, settling at his kitchen counter, opening your laptop and logging into the VPN that gives you access to his server.

You keep trying to wake yourself up as you log into the base software of his system, waiting patiently to see what’s going on.

Billy stands on the other side of the counter, looking a little concerned from his place across from you.

“They’re in the system. I can see the files they’ve accessed.” You mumble sleepily, “They’re downloading Project Medusa.” You glance up at him over the screen of your computer, watching as he reaches for his phone.

“Wait,” You call out to him, distracted by your computer, “Don’t call anyone yet, I’m going to trojan horse them.”

You embed malware into the folder as it’s being saved, turning your head to watch him come around to your side, looking into your computer screen, trying to see what you see.

“Medusa is a recon mission we set up for the government. We’re providing security at events they infiltrate in case things go south as an added layer of protection.”

“Why Medusa?”

He gives a little shake of his head.

“Case names are random, we’re not going to name them something that gives away the mission.”

“Then you have a leak.” You murmur, “They know what they were searching for.”

As you watch closely, you grunt in displeasure as you see the hackers attempt to download all the cases they can see, probably as an afterthought to sell the information to the highest bidder. The files they think they download are empty, you set it up that way for this exact reason, so no one person has access to everything.

“What’s happening?” He asks, and you can hear the worry in his voice. You glance up at him over your shoulder, heart tugging at the look on his face.

“Call someone you trust, tell them to do a sweep of Anvil. I can’t do anything about the information they got, but I can find them now once they open the file. If you have anyone on the field right now on this case, find a way to get them to withdraw without giving away that we know.”

He studies you for a long moment, you glance back at your computer warily, assuming that he doesn't trust what you're saying.

“I don't have time to explain, you just have to trust me. I'll have their location in a minute.”

You see him nod in his peripherals, turning away to type a number into his phone.

When the hacker opens up your file, you grin, snapping a photo of the location with your phone and sliding it across for Billy to see. You press a finger to your lips, a sign to keep whatever he'd planned to do as subtle as possible.

You get access to their system without them knowing, and you take your time, searching through bits for anything important. The system is clean though, a burner system that only has the essentials, but you have their general address, and you use that knowledge to hack something basic.

“I'm in his smartfridge.” You say, accessing the microphone built in and pulling up the audio for him to hear.

It's a little garbled at first, Billy moves to stand over your shoulder, leaning in while you activate background noise suppression to get cleaner audio.

You feel warm, almost sweaty with the level of concentration you've had to put out, heart pounding in your chest as you listen.

“-Other files are empty, she's smarter than I thought…”

You turn your head so that Billy can see you roll your eyes dramatically.

He huffs in amusement.

“-Are the agents listed there?” A deeper voice speaks.

You glance up at Billy, wondering the same question.

“They're coded,” he says, “The case handler is the only one that knows it, but it's related to their badge numbers.”

You assume if they know the code then the handler has been compromised.

“-I've got numbers, no names.”

“-No pictures either?”

It's Billy’s turn to roll his eyes.

You laugh.

“-At least we know when this is going down, and we know which Anvil guys are involved. We can set a trap.”

The other voice agrees.

“We're not going to get anything else, I think.” You murmur out loud.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “Is there a way for you to kill their systems? You mentioned it a while back, have you got it running?”

You give him a sharp grin, sharing a look of complete understanding.

You isolate the computer first, overclocking everything you can while slowing the rpm of the laptop’s fans so that the system overheats with almost no cooling.

“-Do you smell that?” One voice says, right before there's a small popping sound, followed by aggressive swearing.

You make an evil chuckle, right before corrupting everything else connected to the network. A software reload would technically fix it, but it would take time and effort to get everything working again. Your connection is interrupted, your screen going blank as there's no more information to display.

You lean back, taking in what you've just done.

“Anyone ever tell you that you're kind of hot when you’re causing trouble?” Billy asks.

“Kind of?” You say with mock surprise.

He laughs deeply, turning your body to face his so that he can lift you off your chair. You gasp, gripping his shoulders for leverage.

“Very.” He corrects, pulling you in for a kiss that makes your toes curl.

You gasp, lips parting for a moment, looking into his eyes, trying to read the emotions running through his head.

You hesitate, wondering if you should explain more about the events that just happened, worrying that he might blame you for not building a secure enough system.

“We should-”

He stops you with a shake of his head.

Hand cupping your cheek delicately, feeling him take a slow step.

“We’ll talk about it later. Right now, you need to be rewarded.”

“Huh?”

He smiles, eyes on your lips as he moves with you in his arms effortlessly.

“You're such a good employee, sweetheart, you deserve a reward for a job well done.”

Desire tugs low in your stomach at his words. You look up at him curiously as he sets you down on his couch, a mysterious look of delight on his face.

“Take your clothes off. I want to see you.”

Fuck, you were almost dripping with the way he spoke to you, eagerly ripping off your shirt and shorts, looking up at him as your body is exposed to the cool air.

He hums, tilting his head as he looks at you.

“A very good girl, always going above and beyond to make me happy.”

God, this was turning you on more than you'd care to admit.

“Get comfortable, sweetheart, open those legs for me.”

Fuck fuck fuck, you shakily spread your knees, exposing your wet cunt to him, swallowing the desire you have in hopes that it stops you from begging.

You watch a smile pull onto his face, locked in deep appreciation, he sinks to his knees in front of you, eyes on your cunt.

“Very pretty,” he murmurs, raising a hand to calmly pet at your thigh, after a moment, he inches up until this thumb is pressed lightly to your clit.

You gasp, body eagerly melting under his touch.

“I know I'm not supposed to have favourite workers, but honestly baby, I can't deny it, you're very special to me.”

Your lips part, head hazy with pure want, you watch him take a deep breath, eyes rolling shut as he makes a deep, raw sound of appreciation from his chest.

It makes you breathe faster, the way the sound rumbles over you, making you clench.

“You're such a good girl.” He growls, before tugging your hips into his mouth.

You tremble when his lips press against you, reaching down, your fingers tangle into his hair almost immediately, back arching up, head pressing deeper into the soft velvet cushions.

He moans against you and you can feel the soft vibration on your clit.

“I'm breaking so many HR rules.” He says into your pussy and you don't know whether to laugh or pull his head back to your cunt.

You cant your hips up against his mouth, sighing happily when his tongue finally swirls over your bud.

He does something new, using the very tip of his tongue around your bud instead of directly on it, making your body burn with the superposition of pleasure.

“Oh, God, Please.” You whine desperately, squeezing your eyes shut automatically as you beg.

You feel him pause and you open your mouth to beg again before he interrupts you.

“That's not very professional, now is it, sweetheart?”

You raise your head, opening your eyes to look down at him quizzically.

“What?” You ask.

He gives you a small smile.

“You need to look at me when I'm rewarding you.”

Your mouth drops open.

You're unable to speak for a moment before catching hold of your thoughts.

“Yes… sir.”

His eyes darken, you can almost feel the energy shift in the room to something so much more heady and seductive.

He presses his face in, no longer going gently, using his tongue with purpose, gliding it over your clit easily. Your breath catches in your throat, pleasure exploding under your skin like a fire that just keeps spreading. Your body tingles, relaxes, tenses, trembles and through all of it he keeps his tongue exactly where you need it.

It's kind of embarrassing, how fast he works you up, but you're not surprised, because it's him, and he's unbelievably good at making you come.

You moan his name loudly, and he makes a sound at the back of his throat in response.

“Already there, sweetheart? You really are a good girl, hmm?”

You pant, nodding eagerly, whining when his mouth meets your wet cunt once more.

You keep your eyes on him, watches as he reaches up to gently rub his fingers against your bare nipple.

Your fingers tighten in his hair, head dropping back and he lets you without complaint, writhing on his tongue as the pleasure builds and builds until your body is begging for release.

Breathing shallow, body trembling, you can't suppress the cry you let out when you finally tip over that edge, body stiffening for a moment before moving from trembles to sharp jerks as bliss overtakes every muscle in your body.

You squeeze your eyes shut, focused on your breathing, feeling the air move in and out of you as hypersensitivity takes over.

You feel him move, lifting himself from between your thighs that had been clamped momentarily around his ears when your orgasm had hit, but were relaxed for the most part now.

He presses his hand to your cheek, smoothing away some of the hairs sticking to your face, while he studies you, his bearded chin glistening with your arousal.

You sigh, reaching nearby for your discarded shirt, offering it to him to clean himself up.

He gives you a gentle smile, accepting the shirt, wiping his face with it, before using it to clean you up as well.

When he's done, he picks you up, cradling you close as he begins walking to the bedroom you assume.

You yawn against his neck, enjoying the smell of him as it lulls you.

You're pretty sure you fall asleep before you even reach his bed.

.

.

.

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

I'M A LITTLE LATE ON THIS AND I'M SO SORRY ABOUT THAT FRY, BUT ALSO I LOVE IT SO MUCH.

Teeth

Based on @becauseicantthinkwritings 's work "Teeth" that I immediately look up when I come home after a bad day 💞

Cheers Chelsea, you're a great one!

This was mostly done on stream and it was inherently cursed due to me hyperventilating over a discussion on what Ben Barnes might choose as a fursona as well as my own little panther Liam (black cat) constantly trying to shut down my streaming software

[k-marzolf]

Masterlist pt. 2

Masterlist part one.

Billy Russo;

Drabbles;

// Pretty // River // Alone Together // Mine // Kindred Spirits // Scruffy // the world was on fire // card sharp // I’m the girl that’s kickin’ the coke machine // coffee and trigger fingers // possession // rabbit // chilly days // the wolf and the rabbit // sugar lips // Moondust // blood // we all have a hunger // broken crown — #2 // Diet Mountain Dew // it’s strange what desire will make foolish people do // violets and baby’s breath // summertime, and the livin’s easy // our blood is burning // my lover’s got humor // I’m all I’ll ever be // you stood in my doorway // blood & butterflies // atom to atom // warmth // comfort if you need it // drops of Jupiter // tell me how I mesmerize you // domesticity // tease me, please me // dandelion fluff // the darkest little paradise // I’m just gonna call you mine // devotee // the fox // a quarter for a kiss // perditus // Diamastigosis // Insomniac // Penelope // Polaris // Safe // woods & witches // untamed // Heavy in your Arms // Ain’t that a kick in the head // From You The Flowers Grow // Northern Lights // Hair Rollers & Doritos. // the dogs life // bob the unicorn // unmannerly // I know you do voodoo // miss radish // vanilla // Blackberry // Make me your Maria // purple rain // the girl with the moth tattoo. // honeybee //

Yandere drabbles;

// teeth // walk on water just to kiss me //

Dark fics;

// you got me dancing in the dark // Natural //

Werepanther!Billy;

// Marked //

Thots;

// You’re his maid // Marine!Billy #1 // Marine!Billy #2 // Roommate!Billy //

Rabbit Heart.

The Chain.

Monsters in the Dark

Imagine Being Loved By Me

Wicked Game

Ephemeral

Take Me To Church

[dreamlandcreations]

#1

Completed ✔ Unfinished❓Ongoing❗

Poe Dameron

@no-droids The Bet Series - Part 1, Part 2 ✔

@halfwaythereroyalwrites Trust in Me - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 ❓

Bucky Barnes

@thejamesoldier Like Silver Glass - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 ❓

@invisibleanonymousmonsters Runaway ✔

@buckitybarnes Inevitable - Part 1, Part 2 ✔

@sherrybaby14 The Vikings Sannr Ast - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (dark fic!!!) ✔

@nellblazer My Right to Purge - Dark!Steve, Bucky x Reader (dark fic!!!) ✔

@supersoldierslover Two Night Stand ✔

@221bshrlocked​ A gentle touch ✔

Nathan Bateman

@youvebeenlivingfictional The Logical Progression + Epilogue ✔

@youvebeenlivingfictional Bateman Begins❗

Santiago Garcia

@youvebeenlivingfictional Don't Treat My Love Like a Habit ✔

Billy Russo

@becauseicantthinkwritings Monster Masterlist (werepanther!Billy, warlock!Billy, etc.) ❗

@fight-so-dirty Way Down We Go ✔

@pillow-titties Get it outta your system ✔

Darkling

@yagurlrosie Nyctophobia (dark fic!!!) ✔

Sherlock Holmes (Henry Cavill)

@cinebration A Challenge Part 1, Part 2 ✔

James Keziah Delaney

@cinebration Who Spins the Coin ✔

Alfie Solomons

@cinebration Wicked Creature ✔

@cinebration Screaming Demons ✔

@theshelbyclan Off the Menu ✔

I can’t name a specific work for them, but I adore 

@autumnleaves1991-blog  @princessxkenobi and @tripleissue for their Triple Frontier fics

@thefact0rygirl mainly for her Boba Fett pieces but essentially for all her posts

@maybege @rosethornxs @saradika @the-little-ewok @princessxkenobi​ @galacticgraffiti​ and many others for their Boba, Poe and other Star Wars fics

@anetteaneta for basically all her Oscar Isaac’s character fics

@massivecolorspygiant @drabbles-mc and @bellisperennis0 for their Bishop posts

@solomons-finest-rum and @sceawere because they posted an insane amount of stuff about Alfie Solomons

also, the Bishop x Brat tag of @massivecolorspygiant and @youvebeenlivingfictional is something that’s having a life of its own and worth checking out

Non-fic creators that deserve appreciation:

@softpeter’s moodboards 

@firefly-graphics with the many many dividers

@creativepromptsforwriting with the unwavering devotion to help writers

@uzuriartonline​‘s amazing art

note: I’m sure I missed many I intended to put on this list and sadly a LOT of posts I found memorable over the years are not available anymore or I couldn’t find it in search, I’m sure there are various reasons those accounts are gone but showing appreciation can’t hurt in the long run so... Like, comment, reblog or interact in any way you are comfortable to show support and be kind to creators who share content with us for free 

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Teeth

Part 18

Werepanther!Billy Russo x Female reader

Masterlist

Warnings: Conversations about stalking and being afraid, some sexual frustration.

You woke up in his arms. A deep sigh when you realise your face is buried in his chest, his scent wrapped as tightly around you as his body was.

Your leg is kicked over his hip, your nightgown rucked up but you barely care, not when his soft breaths are tickling your ear like that.

You can’t help it, your hand rubbing his back, appreciating the feel of his skin.

He lets out a soft sigh, waking slightly the more you begin to shift beside him.

“Sorry.” He hums, uncurling his body from around you and lying back. You withdraw your leg, sighing and stretching your arms upward, back arching naturally to help you wake up.

You yawn, groaning a little as you rub your eyes. 

You feel good. Really good. You’re well rested and you feel so calm, turning on your side to look at him shyly. He blinks slowly at you, fighting sleep.

“Hey.” You say on a raspy breath, closing your eyes for a moment as they sting a little in protest at being open.

“Morning.” He replies, his voice is deep and rough and sends tingles of delight over your skin. Fucking hell, his voice in the morning was divine. You wanted to hear him speak more.

“Hope I wasn’t too much trouble.” You mumble, eyes still closed.

He makes a small hum.

“No, you-” He breathes out a small sigh, “You were perfect.”

God, you wanted to record his voice and save it for later. You could feel your body slowly getting aroused, you peek an eye open to glance at him, observing his shirtless form.

Is this what waking up with him would have been like? Close, perhaps, but if you had woken up with him that morning after you’d had sex, you wouldn’t have been able to stop touching him. 

Unlike now, where you were only close enough to feel the residual heat of his skin.

Wow, this was a really confusing situation. 

You definitely shouldn’t stay, despite how badly you wanted to. He was a friend right now, and nothing more.

The very thought of leaving his bed created a physical ache inside of you. You wanted this, you wanted him, and you wanted so much more than he was probably willing to even give.

Your throat closes up, you feel tears pool in your eyes. You blink fast to get rid of them.

Sitting up, you avoid looking at him and you scoot your way to the edge of the bed.

“See you at breakfast.” You murmur lightly, walking out of his room and back to yours.

.

It had taken every ounce of control in Billy’s body, every shred, every atom of it, not to reach across and pull you back into his arms. 

He’d even held his breath at one point, your scent so thick in the air, soaked into his sheets and lingering on his very skin, another gulp of your strawberry scent would decimate his self control. 

He wasn’t sure what words could be used to define a relationship like yours. His employee that he’d slept with once before he fucked up and you ended things with him, in his bed, because you were too scared to sleep alone after he’d brought you to his home to protect you from someone following you.

What label would you even put on that?

Luck, Billy thinks, because it gave him a second chance, one he would not destroy again by coming on too fast or leaving you alone. Something sours in his stomach at the idea of him considering this situation lucky, there was still someone out there after you, not that they would ever get another chance to be near or hurt you again. He would make sure of it.

The panther inside of him had been silent, placated by a night beside you, hums of serenity in his head, which had only stopped the moment you’d gotten up and left the room. 

Billy was forever haunted by a day you would know him, really know him, and not turn away, or leave. He was tormented by thoughts of you, by the ways you could bring him to his knees if you so wanted.

He’d do anything for you.

The concept of it didn’t even frighten him.

.

Billy makes a little sound to get your attention, and you turn to him with the kettle in hand.

“The kettle has a short somewhere and doesn’t turn on unless it’s in the right position, here-” He extends his hands out to you and you curiously place the kettle, halfway filled with water, into his hands.

You watch him angle the kettle slightly before slipping into the base and clicking it on. The little light in the on switch turns red for a second before blinking off. 

You’re mildly amused as you watch him swear under his breath, flipping the switch off, before turning it back on again. This time, it stays on and begins heating the water for your tea.

You give him a little smile of thanks when he turns to face you, not even bothering to ask him why he doesn’t just get a new one, before he’s explaining it to you.

“It was a housewarming gift from my friend.”

You nod in understanding.

“It’s probably not that hard to fix. I can take a look at it while I’m here… If you’d like.” You offer, already thinking about the tools you’d need to strip the wires.

He nods, tilting his head a little, looking at you with a depth in his gaze that makes your stomach feel like it’s twisting.

“Thank you.” Billy says, taking a step forward.

He takes another step and you swallow, hands curling into fists.

Was he going to kiss you?

You have to tilt your head higher the closer he got.

You jerk in surprise when the kettle clicks off behind you and he’s reaching for it.

Right…

You press your teeth together as a flood of negative emotions flood your mind. That he didn’t like you like that, that he was just letting you stay here because he was nice. This was nothing more than pity, and held no meaning beyond friendship.

It almost chokes you, the pain in your chest is searingly sharp.

You blink, pretending everything is alright, turning to watch him pour steaming water into two mugs.

“Sugar?” He asks, after placing a tea bag into each cup and letting it sit for a while.

You tell him how much, and you watch him prepare your tea how you like it, looking up at him, desperate to see more of this side of him, yearning to touch him.

You find yourself looking out of his windows, looking at your own apartment in the distance.

You can’t see much since the curtains are drawn, but you imagine what he could have seen when they were open.

It makes you a little uncomfortable now, that you know he wasn’t the only person watching you. That there was someone else peering into your life, enjoying your suffering. Why else would they have photographed the robbery instead of helping you? 

“Can I ask you something?” You ask softly, deep in thought, still staring at your shut curtains.

“Anything.” He replies.

“You’ve seen the photos. What do you think he- the stalker I mean- what do you think they think of me?”

He looks up at you for a moment, and doesn’t say anything until you glance at him curiously.

“I’m not equipped enough to give an analysis-”

You smile.

“Fair enough. But I just want to know what you think.”

He inclines his head, sliding your mug of tea over to you.

“Dinah said yesterday, that they might want you to feel scared, maybe they enjoy that.”

“Yeah but, don’t I look scared enough?” You say with a laugh.

“Maybe not.” He answers softly.

You smile sadly, shaking your head.

“So this person thinks I’m weak? Or… vulnerable?”

“If that’s what they think then they’re wrong.”

“Are they?” You mumble beneath your breath, looking down into your tea.

He tilts his head down, to find his way into your line of sight. You smile when you notice the odd way he bends to get your attention.

“Yes. And it doesn’t matter what this person thinks of you.” He follows easily.

“They’ve been watching me for a while, seeing way more intimate moments than I probably even know. What if this person knows me better than anyone?” 

Your heart squeezes in your chest, paranoia filling you, the idea that you really were just weak and scared becoming your most defining attributes.

“Then tell me something.” Billy says decisively.

You look up at him warily.

“What?”

“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone.” 

The corner of your mouth twitches up in amusement. You try your hardest to come up with something and fail. 

“I can’t remember a single thing about myself.” You whisper to him in horror.

He smiles, and then you watch his nose scrunch as he breaks into a grin. Adorable and boyish, you feel your stomach squeeze in delight.

“Okay okay,” You say, trying to come up with something that you’re sure you’ve never told anyone, “Oh here’s one- watching videos of people painting calms me down sometimes- Oh no, my therapist knows that. Shit.”

You think again for a long moment.

“My favourite painter is Vincent Van Gogh?” You offer instead.

Billy inclines his head in acceptance.

“Why?”

You blink.

“I like the way he doesn’t blend his brushstrokes, that you can see each one and see the separation of the colour, and still have a really amazing painting.”

He smiles at you, his eyes hold a depth that you adore.

“Tell me something else.” He says.

He wants to know me, you think affectionately.

“I think scars are beautiful,” You murmur, “They show where you’ve been and what you’ve lived through, and in a way, they’re no different than brushstrokes.”

“I have a lot of scars.”

“I know.”

I’ve seen you naked, you want to remind him.

The moment feels charged, soft electricity humming in the air, a call between your bodies.

“Well now I know things about you that no one else knows, and when I say that you’re smart and very brave, you have to believe me right?”

“Don’t guess,” He says, hand cupping your face, “believe me.”

“I guess.”

“I believe you.” You echo.

The corner of his mouth lifts into a smile.

“Good girl.”

You swallow.

Suddenly he blinks, tilting his head as if he’s just thought of something and smiles.

“I just remembered, I didn’t show you the whole house yet.”

He doesn’t say anything further, simply taking your hand in his, turning around to lead you in the direction of his bedroom.

Your heart pounds in your chest, ambling behind him with your mug of steaming tea still in hand, you try your best not to spill as you walk.

“It’s my favourite place for a nap. I think you’ll like it.” He says, and you study the back of his head, desperate to memorize everything about him.

When you’re back in the green walls of his bedroom, he releases your hand and approaches a wooden door you had assumed was a closet.

He tugs the door open, and you look at him curiously as he stands beside the door. He inclines his head for you to go in.

It’s a little dark, but you can see the little room immediately leads into a stairway, and your heart beats a little fast as you step in.

The space is enclosed, and the next thing you know Billy is right behind you, his voice in your ear.

“Don’t be scared,” he soothes, “Go up.”

“I’m not scared.” You grumble, gripping the handrail to step carefully to the top where you can see another door at the top of the stairs.

At the top, you don’t hesitate to turn the doorknob, pushing the door open swiftly.

The light hits you all at once and you squint, frowning in discomfort as your eyes try to adjust.

When your vision finally clears, your mouth drops open.

It’s a sunroom.

Sitting in the centre of his rooftop, is a room in the shape of a glass hexagon, large, soft, dark blue couches along each edge, filled with an array of potted plants and throw pillows. 

In the middle of the room, is a large stone table, with short legs.

The sun streams through the glass, lighting up the room effortlessly, an immaculate display of design.

“Billy.” Is all you can find the words to say.

He chuckles behind you, moving to sit on the couch.

“It came with the house. It was the main reason I bought it. Fixed it up in my first summer here and I’m glad I did.”

You nod in agreement, still looking around in wonder.

After a moment, you sit as well, the couch embracing your body easily.

You smile, tuck your legs under you and bring your cup of tea up to your lips for a sip.

It’s lovely, it’s cozy, you watch the sun shine into his hair.

He looks at you, and you feel like cold butter melting on warm toast.

Your grip on your cup tightens.

.

He’s dangerous.

He’s the most dangerous person in the world.

He’s dangerous because he cares, because he’s kind to you, because he’s patient and calm and is too willing to accommodate your needs.

He’s dangerous because he’s so far away, because he won’t kiss you and he won’t touch you and you have to stand here and pretend like you haven’t seen him naked and you don’t know what his mouth tastes like and pretending is going to kill you much faster than any stalker is.

You stand outside of his home gym, listening to him grunt as he took swings at a punching bag. You’d stepped in a few moments before to ask about swimming in his pool.

He’d been shirtless, covered in a sheen of his own sweat, a single strand of his hair sticking to his forehead.

Hey, I don’t have a swimsuit but I really wanna go in your pool. Can we take a quick trip back to my place?

We can, he’d responded, but you don’t need a suit. Wear whatever you’re comfortable with.

Any then you’d nodded, and left like an idiot because you couldn’t very well form new thoughts with him looking like that, right?

Fuck you, Billy Russo, you think, titling your head back to take a breath, fuck you and your hot fucking body and your stupidly handsome face.

You close your eyes, remembering the way he looked, lean and muscular, his hair moving with each powerful swing of his arm.

You gasp, arousal sticky between the lips of your cunt, soaking into the fabric of your underwear.

He’d said to wear what you felt was comfortable, and a devious thought fills your head. That maybe you’d be comfortable wearing nothing at all.

It feels easy enough to do. Step into his lovely pool room, take a deep breath in, and out, pulling your shirt off, and dropping your shorts unceremoniously onto the floor. You reach for it, folding it neatly and placing it onto the wooden bench on the far wall of the room.

There's a small shelf on the wall nearby with white rolled towels, maybe about five or six, and you consider them carefully as you approach the pool.

Your plan is foolproof, turn on the overhead rain feature, tug your underwear off and get into the pool as fast as possible. 

There's a panel on the wall near the entrance of the room, but there's also another waterproof control panel on the floor beside the pool for ease of access.

You smile absentmindedly, admiring the foresight that went into the pool design, wondering how much of a hand the man constantly on your mind had in the planning of it all.

You second guess yourself at the water’s edge. Were you really going to do this? 

Yes, you decide, sitting beside the pool so you could adjust the settings easily. 

The first thing you do is dim the lights, bringing it down to a much lower setting, and then turn on the small lights above your head that looked like stars. 

When it was satisfactory, you eagerly tap the tiny rain symbol on the panel, and select the lowest intensity.

To your amazement, it starts of like soft drizzle, and you pause to take in the ambience of it.

Some parts of the pool’s edge are lined with plants and large rock shapes to give the place a very natural effect. It’s got a kidney shape, or maybe something more irregular, that helps play into the nature theme you assume Billy was going for. 

After a moment, you increase the rain intensity, feeling it soak into your hair and over your shoulders. The droplets hit the leaves of the surrounding plants, creating a symphony of relaxing sounds.

It excites you now, to swim naked here, you tug your undergarments off so much more easily in the low light, curious to feel what it’s like to swim in a marvel like this.

You place your wet underthings near the pool’s edge, but far enough to keep it out of the rain, and you slip into the pool with a deep breath.

The water is warm, not too warm, but enough that you don’t shiver when you climb in. The rain falls around you, droplets disturbing the water, leaving transient ripples only there to be replaced by more raindrops.

It’s magical, the way this space makes you feel. You take a breath and dip your head below the surface of the water, feeling your hair float around you.

You come back up for air, taking your time to move around the pool. You’ve never swam naked before, but in the low light, it’s not as scary as you thought it would be.

You paddle around for a little, and after a while, you find your way back to the nearby control panel to explore other features.

You discover there’s an option to light up the interior of the pool, and another feature that plays ambient forest sounds. You find that you don’t like that as much, because it reminds you of past experiences you’d rather forget.

You find a comfortable spot on the edge of the pool, folding your hands under your head to rest your cheek comfortably, half floating in the gentle artificial rain.

You’re incredibly relaxed when you feel the rain intensity soften on your back. Peeking an eye open, you raise your head with a smile when you catch sight of Billy at the door.

“Sorry, didn’t want to disturb you.” He murmurs, approaching calmly. He’s still dressed the way he was before, shirtless, with a pair of dark grey sweatpants on his lower half.

“That’s alright.” You gulp, eyes trailing down his form shamelessly, too caught up in the way he looks to worry about him looking at you.

When he’s halfway to you, he stops suddenly. You raise an eyebrow at the small shocked expression on his face. You tilt your head curiously when you see his fists clench tightly.

“Are you naked?” He asks in a calm voice, his overall demeanour clearly displaying that he was not calm.

“Yes.” You say slowly.

You watch his jaw tighten, you swear you’ll hear his teeth crack with the amount of pressure he puts on them.

“You said to wear what’s comfortable.” You defend yourself, pushing away from the wall of the pool to float on your back peacefully, no doubt giving him a subtle glimpse of your nude body in the low light. You can’t discern the exact expression written on his face.

“You can join me if you’d like.” You offer.

You watch him debate with himself, unsure of what exactly is going on in his head, but you try to give him the space to decide, turning away from him to glide to the other end of the pool, holding your breath as the water moves all around you.

.

Billy’s losing control. Fast.

The panther has locked him into place, refusing to allow him to move away from you, after he’d decided he was going to allow you your privacy and gently turn down your offer of a swim.

Of course he wanted nothing more than to shed his clothes and join you, but he didn’t want to intrude.

The panther had rejected this argument. The panther was currently trying to urge Billy into removing his clothes and joining you.

It’s a war within himself, fighting with the deeper, darker base urges inside of him, rational thought being pulled from his mind as the beast demands he go to you.

He watches you push away from the wall, your head dipping under the surface as your ass raises into the air for a small moment. Graceful in your movement. 

Even with his ability to see in the low light, the small ripples of the water caused by the small raindrops obscure his view of your body.

Naked, he reminds himself.

The beast inserts imagery of your naked bodies against each other in the water, his arms caging you in while he sinks his cock into you.

He exhales, reaching down to push his pants down the length of his legs.

When he has his boxers off, and he’s just as naked as you are, he hesitates again.

Was this the right idea? Should he give you more space?

He turns away from the pool’s edge.

The panther, having enough of his internal battle, takes sudden control of his legs, one small push, and he tumbles into the water against better thought.

.

You take a breath when you reach the other end, only distracted by the sound of something large crashing into the water behind you. 

You turn suddenly in surprise, watching as Billy breaks the surface of the water, shaking his head and pushing his now wet hair back to pin you with his dark gaze.

You glance down shyly, unable to see anything more than dark shapes in the water, nothing that can tell you the state of his undress.

“So, h- how did you come up with the design for this place?” You ask, lowering your body into the water until only your head is above the surface, the water licking at your neck and chin, soft droplets just barely pattering onto your head.

He stays a small distance away, a wet strand of hair falling in front of his face as he begins speaking. You try not to get distracted by the way he looks.

“Remember when I told you I ran away from that group home when I was fifteen?”

You incline your head in affirmation.

“Well, I spent most of my time in the woods. I’d break into abandoned cabins and stay until peak season. I’d read whatever books I could find, and explore the forest to pass the time.”

You blink, your throat closing up at the lonely existence he was painting for you.

“I thought I hated it. When I came back to civilization, I didn’t think I would want reminders of it, but after all of that, I realised, that was the very first place I heard myself think.”

He looks up, and you keep your eyes on him.

“In the dark, under the trees, looking up at the stars.”

He looks back at you, and you can see the faint shine of the lights in his eyes.

“That was the first place I learned who I really was.”

You smile softly at him, inching closer.

“That’s amazing, Billy.” You hum.

He moves closer too, unable to be too far from you, or so you hope quietly.

“I know you’re afraid of the forest, of the reminder.”

You swallow, nodding, looking down at the ripples he creates as he moves.

“It makes me feel like I have no control, anything could happen and I have no power to stop it.”

It’s easier with you around, you want to say to him.

Like he did before, he inserts himself into your line of sight, pulling a smile onto your face at his antics.

“You have to know by now that you’re not powerless.”

You open your mouth to protest.

He cups your cheeks, bringing you close to his body, until you swear he’s touching you all over.

“Don’t argue.” He says in a stern tone that makes you gulp, looking up at him demurely, feeling yourself get comfortably small under his gaze.

“You’re resilient, you’ve been through so much and you’re still so strong.”

“But this is breaking me.” You confess, voice cracking as tears rise to the surface, having never admitted it out loud, not even to your therapist.

He looks pained for a moment, eyebrows drawing together, a tilt of his head before he’s dipping to take you into his arms.

A few tears fall, your breathing shallow as you cry for a moment, emotions overwhelming you, stealing your ability to breathe.

His large palm moves over your bare back, soothing you, his cheek is cool where it presses against yours.

You sniffle after a moment, getting control of your emotions, clinging to him in the water, unwilling to let him go.

He says your name softly, reverently, capturing your attention.

“You’re not broken yet, sweetheart, and I promise I’ll keep you safe. No one is going to touch a hair on your head, and no one is ever going to get the chance to hurt you.”

“That’s not your job, Billy. You don’t have to.” You protest.

His hands rise to cup your face, drawing back a little so that he can look at you, nose to nose.

“I want to. I want you to feel safe, and protected and relaxed because you deserve to be.”

You make a small sound, and before you can stop yourself, you rise onto your toes to kiss him.

His reaction is instantaneous, gripping the back of your head to press his mouth firmly to yours, a low groan in his throat, something dark and desperate.

You reach for him, wrapping your arms around his bare shoulders, pulling him close until your bodies are pressed to each other.

His hands grip your thighs, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his hips, the water sloshing as you move so eagerly.

You gasp against his mouth as you feel the largeness of his erection press against your thigh.

He grips your jaw tightly, placing punishing kisses onto your mouth, no doubt bruising your lips with the fervour.

His desire is matched with your own, your fingers scraping against his skin, wandering over the scars on his shoulder, smoothing over his wet hair.

“Are you sure?” He pants against your mouth, groaning when he feels your lips kiss the spot right below his ear.

He says your name on a groan, tilting his head back when your teeth scrape the base of his neck.

“Sweetheart,” He tries again, “You need to tell me.”

You pause suddenly, gasping as you come back to your senses. In truth, you weren’t sure about this, past experience telling you that doing this with him was probably a bad idea.

You give him a shy look, his breathing harsh as he looks into your eyes.

“I’m not sure.” You whisper softly, worried about his reaction.

Like he can sense your worry, he nods, withdrawing from your grip.

“That’s alright. It’s okay to be unsure.” He says, turning away for a moment, cupping a handful of water to pour onto his head.

Yet guilt fills you, past experience trying to pressure you into thinking that you’ve done something wrong.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

He turns back, concern in his gaze as he drops himself to eye level with you.

“Don’t feel sorry for telling me how you feel. I’d rather you stop me now, than regret it, or feel bad about yourself later.”

You think about mentioning your fear of him leaving again, after he’s done that so many times before, but you decide against it, because it would do no good at this point to say.

“I like you, I really do,” You whisper, “but I worry I’m using you to distract myself from the way I feel. That’s not fair to you.” 

He looks down, a somber expression on his face that makes your heart crack.

“I get it. Trust me, I do, I’m here for you, anything you want.”

You reach out to take his hand, bringing it up to your face so that you can kiss the back of his knuckles.

“Maybe we can take it slow? Until I can get my brain around things?”

He gives you a little smile, nodding acceptingly at the notion.

“Slow is good.” He says, leaning forward to kiss the top of your head.

You smile happily, looking up at him, feeling something different in your chest, a fondness, an appreciation, like nothing you’ve ever felt before. You may be naked, but you’re not remotely concerned about him violating the boundaries of your consent.

You toss your arms around him, holding him close , feeling him return the embrace.

After a few moments, you lean back, smiling up at him.

“Exactly how hard can this artificial rain fall?” You ask playfully.

He takes on an amused expression at the idea.

.

.

.

[idaoftheburningmind]

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Werepanther!Billy Headcanon

Werepanther!Billy thinks you don’t know about his panther form, after all, it had taken Frank (who’s a werewolf) years to figure out that he was a shifter. Billy is good at keeping his secret.

Once the two of you start dating, Billy wants to tell you everything. But of course he’s cautious, and a little worried about your reaction. He’s never felt like this about someone, and the last thing he wants to do is scare you off.

Then one day he’s at your apartment, picking you up before a date. He follows you casually as you rush back into your bedroom to grab something. He’s leaning on the doorframe, assuring you that you don’t need to rush. Then he spots this little fella at the head of your bed:

“Who’s this?”

He asks you with a teasing smirk, and your cheeks burn as you admit his name is Billy which confuses him.

“You named him after me?”

“Well yeah. It’s for when you go on long business trips and I miss you.”

His stomach flips at the thought of you missing him so much, but his heart is pounding. Do you know?

He crosses the room with carefully calculated steps that try to seem casual.

“A panther, huh?” You nod.

“Yeah.” You fiddle with your fingers, unsure as to whether you had crossed a boundary. Then Billy’s eyes meet yours, a soft expression on his face, which gives you the courage to add with a smile, “Did I get the colour right?”

He nods, ducking his head slightly as he rubs his thumb over the soft glossy fur on Billy the toy panther.

“Yeah, you did.”

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

The new teeth chapter was brilliant. The subconscious way the reader was seeking Billy’s comfort through his stuff and his bed being a through line to the realization he has been the panther the entire is chefs kiss 🧑‍🍳😘👌🏽

Thank youuuuu!

Also, in case anyone didn't understand- Dinah was a little rude to reader because she could tell reader was ovulating and wanted to get out of there.

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

i just want you to know....your Teeth update broke me✨✨✨✨

why so goood???? THEY FINALLY TSLKEDD. 😭 I MEAN YWEAH. I DONT KNOW IF I SHOULD DM YOU ABOUT THIS OR IF I WANT THE WHOLE WORLD TO KNOW. 😭 CHELSEA. 3 DAYS???? 3 DAYS?????

Oops, I forgot to answer this in a timely manner 😅

They're done talking now.

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

😭😭😭😭 HE WAS BLEEDING?!?!?!!! CHELSEA. 😭😭😭😭

Oh yeah, very unhinged, very.... feral

[stardustmorozov]

@becauseicantthinkwritings Look, it is werepanther!Billy

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Reader forgave him pretty fast and easily for saying she was nothing to him. :|

You didn't think his explanation was good enough? He didn’t mean it, it was just something said so Dinah would mind her business.

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Teeth

The Masterlist

Werepanther!Billy Russo x Female Reader

Warnings: Predator/Prey vibes, Serial killers, stalking, smut, minors DNI, Soulmate trope, protector vibes, anxiety, angst. Specific warnings come before each part.

Part 1: Something in the Woods

Part 2: Predator or Protector?

Part 3: A Safe Place to Rest Your Head

Part 4: Jealousy, Unexpected

Part 5: Guarded

Part 6: Double Helix

Part 7: Restraint

Part 8: It's just bad luck

Part 9: A step in the right direction

Part 10: I'm waiting for you

Part 11: Enjoying the show?

Part 12: Strawberry lipstick state of mind

Part 13: Till there's no space in between

Part 14: The force of attraction

Part 15: Visibility

Part 16: Desperation

Part 17: Shelter

Part 18: Whatever you're comfortable with

Part 19: Can I kiss you?

Part 20: Descent into madness

Part 21: More feararum

Part 22: Denial?

Part 23:

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Teeth

Part 20!

Masterlist

Warnings: Angst (god, I'm so sorry), discussions of stalking, mentions of nightmares, kissing, sex dreams, more angst, Billy's sad childhood.

In the early hours of Saturday morning, Dinah knocks on his front door.

He knows it's her, he can almost smell her impatience. 

You haven’t woken up yet, and Billy really wants to let you sleep. You’d had another nightmare- he’d heard the moment you woken with a sharp gasp last night. He’d waited, waited patiently to see if you’d come to him, if you’d ask to crawl into bed beside him. He’d listened to your footsteps as you’d made a cup of jasmine tea.

He’d wanted to go to you, but he didn’t want to make it seem as if he was… monitoring you.

Lying on his side, he’d listened to you sigh, making sure you were okay, using his keen sense of hearing to listen to your racing heart.

He wasn’t too sure what to do. How did he reassure you that he wanted to be with you, that your entire relationship was built on something stronger than pity?

Perhaps, he could encourage you to seek out therapy, help you through your erroneous thoughts and make you see reason.

He shuddered at the reminder of therapists, and his failed relationship with a certain one in particular.

He’d listened to you have your tea and go back to bed, then he’d listened to you toss and turn and make little sounds of irritation that made the beast inside of him alert, tugging at him to go to you, to lie beside you, soothe you into sleep.

He thought about how you’d feel in his arms, the way he’d bury his nose in your hair and wrap his body around yours, a smile pulling onto his face the more he thought about it.

Then, he’d remembered what you’d said, that you might just take his actions as pity, and not the movements of a man utterly and hopelessly obsessed.

In a way, he sort of understood the insanity that being deprived of you could cause, shaking his head as he fell asleep, knowing exactly how unhinged his thoughts sounded.

Billy pulls open the door, wearing only the grey sweats he’d fallen asleep in, rubbing at one eye with the base of his palm.

“Madani.” He greets grumpily, the first peek of sunlight just starting to light up the street behind her.

She looks unbothered by his prickly greeting, in her red shirt and sensible work pants, a coat thrown over the ensemble to shelter her from the chill of the oncoming winter season. Billy steps to the side to let her in, the glint of her badge on her hip when she moves.

“You got coffee?” Dinah asks, eyes scanning the area, most likely looking for changes in his home. It had been years since she’d set foot in his place.

“Upstairs.” He answers, and she nods, pulling her gloves and coat off, hanging it on the little hanger near the door.

He leaves her in the kitchen for a moment so that he can grab a shirt, not wanting to be exposed to her for longer than necessary.

She’s sifting through his collection of coffees when he finds her again.

“So, how is she?” Dinah asks, not looking up. He watches her open a bag, take a small whiff and shakes her head. Billy studies her for a moment, gathering his thoughts, making sure to keep himself calm, stoic. He’d already had an idea of where this conversation was headed, and he didn’t want Dinah prying too much.

He clears his throat.

“She’s alright- yeah- shaken, which is understandable, but she’s a fighter.”

“I know, I saw her background. Hell of a girl.” Dinah says, raising her head with a light smile that suggested she knew something that he didn’t.

“What are you implying?” 

Dinah makes a sound of amusement, selecting another bag of coffee, this one,  harvested from the mountains of Peru.

“I read her file, Billy. Her statements, her firsthand account of that night. I saw the autopsy report for those two muggers. I know.”

He keeps his emotions in check, wrapped tightly with a rubber band and shoved deep down inside of him. His head is full of static, denial in his veins.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” He says measuredly.

Dinah has the audacity to laugh, full blown, head tossed back, he’d roll his eyes if he was a little bit more comfortable with the direction of the conversation.

 “I forgot how easy it is for you to lie to yourself. Don’t worry, Russo I won’t tell a soul.”

“There’s nothing to tell, Dinah.” He says, inching closer to her, desperate to make the were-cheetah understand his words. “There is nothing to read into, nothing to know. She means nothing to me.”

Dinah’s eyes slide from his face to something behind him, he turns his head, stomach twisting as he spots you, having just come upon the conversation.

God fucking dammit, Billy swears internally.

.

“Good morning Agent Madani.” You greet evenly, pretending that you didn’t hear what you definitely just heard, “Is everything going well with the investigation?”

She says your name in greeting.

“Are you doing alright?” She asks, grabbing a bag of coffee from Billy’s selection.

“Peachy.” You respond sarcastically, with a smile, entering the kitchen, unable to look him in the eye at all.

You watch her set up his coffee machine, as you slide onto one of the stools at his kitchen counter, unlocking your phone to look through your notifications.

The place is silent, save for the hum of the coffee machine, you can feel Billy’s eyes on you, but you refuse to acknowledge him in any way, shape or form.

I’ll show you nothing.

“So,” You say, clearing your throat, “any news?”

Dinah turns, looking at you both, before stepping over to an unmarked cupboard, opening it to grab a mug.

You blink, tilting your head in acknowledgement that she so easily knew where to find things. Maybe they were in a relationship before.

“We have a… working theory that maybe you’re not the target.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise, waiting for her elaboration.

“When we assembled the timeline of events, and analysed the photos properly, we noticed that Billy hadn’t been around at any point that the stalker was there. Every time something happened, he was nowhere around.”

“Are you implying that he’s the stalker?” You say dryly in disbelief, looking down, not wanting to meet his eyes.

“No, more that the intended target of this harassment isn’t you… but rather… Billy.”

At that, you finally look up.

“How does that make any sense?” You prod at Dinah.

“Thing is, Billy is a security expert, catching him off guard would be really difficult. But, threatening a close friend of his, forcing him to watch your fear… we think that was the goal the entire time.”

You blink, looking down.

This wasn’t about you at all?

“That’s why taking several photos of you being mugged was so important,” Dinah continues, “Your fear, they’re using it against him.”

“Which reminds me,” She mutters, turning to Billy, “Can you send me a list of any enemies you have? We’ll start big and work our way down.

“You kidding?” Billy asks, raising a hand to wipe at his brow, “That list would be ten pages long. I’m not in security to make friends.”

“We have to start somewhere.” You hear her mutter to him.

“So… this is good right?” You say interrupting their little conversation, with freshly sprouting thoughts, “This means that I'm- I'm not being obsessed over, yeah? So I'm not in as much danger as I thought? No one is learning everything about me because they like me?”

There's a stagnant silence between the both of them that makes you think that you weren’t very correct in your assumptions.

“Not exactly.” Billy says, glancing at Dinah who looks back at him and makes you think to yourself that they really made a cute couple. The thought makes you press your teeth together angrily.

For a moment, it feels like someone's taken a hammer to your chest again, more and more you realise that maybe Billy had never really desired you.

“If this person isn't actively interested in pursuing you, and just trying to hurt Billy, then they have nothing to really gain from keeping you alive in the long term.” Dinah explains.

It just makes your heart sink more.

“Well it makes sense that my death would be worth much more than my life.” You grumble, crossing your arms.

In your peripherals, Billy turns away, when your eyes follow his movement, you catch him shaking his head.

Great, now you’d disappointed him.

“What if I left the city? Got as far away as I could and never came back?”

You watch his shoulders stiffen.

“You’d probably be safe but there’s a chance the person doing this could go after your friends to make a point, or maybe they follow you, we’re not entirely sure about anything, all we have right now is just a working theory.” Dinah answers.

“Oh.” You mumble, “So you could be wrong, and I could still be the main target.”

She’s silent for a while.

“We’re still exploring every option, but based on analysis, Billy does seem like the real target.”

Great. 

You turn away with a nod of your head, trying to figure out how to excuse yourself from the conversation and retreat into hiding.

“Wait a minute,” You say, turning back, “Why me? I’m sure there are a lot of people they could target that mean more to him than me.”

His head drops, and Dinah glances at him with a wry smile on her face.

“I think you might be his only friend that isn’t ex-military.”

Are we even friends? You want to jab.

“Actually, the harassment might have even been orchestrated to get you both closer together, knowing that Billy might have taken you in if he knew you were being stalked.”

You think you were going to be sick.

The idea that you were just being used as a pawn in someone else’s game this entire time, like a mouse in a maze, with doors shutting all around you, forcing you to go in one direction, made you want to sink into the nearest abyss and never be seen again.

You wanted to claw at the walls, you wanted to scream.

You take a deep breath, holding it, closing your eyes and pressing your face into your hands. You let it hurt, you let your lungs beg for air, you feel your body begin to sag under the weight of itself. When you can’t keep it in anymore, you let the breath out in a rush, feeling your mind calm down, too busy focusing on the mild oxygen deprivation to keep panicking.

“Alright well, it was a pleasure seeing you, Agent Madani, I look forward to speaking with you again.” You say diplomatically, sliding off the stool and stepping purposefully back to your room. You don’t stop until you’ve collapsed onto your bed face down, your face buried into a pillow, hoping that you could close your eyes and have all of this go away.

.

A while later, there’s a soft knock on your door.

You raise your head, sitting up and facing the door.

“Yeah?” You answer.

The doorknob turns, and you feel your throat tighten as you meet his eyes.

“Are you alright?”

“Great.” Is your clipped answer, “Things have never been better.”

He says your name on a sigh, opening your door wider to step into your room.

You look away, down at the spot on the floor where the glass of water had been smashed to pieces a few nights ago. You wonder if you would still find any remnants of splinters there.

“You and Dinah look nice together.” You comment softly.

“I suppose we might have,” He accedes, coming to sit beside you on your bed, “A  long time ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be. I’m not.”

You give him a tight-lipped smile.

“She's really pretty, I almost want to congratulate you on being with her.”

“She's alright.”

You make a sound of disbelief, raising your eyebrows in surprise.

He tilts his head in curiosity.

“What?”

“Well if you think she's alright, it's no wonder that I mean nothing to you.”

The silence is stiff, like the air is made of honey, trapping you both in place.

“I'm sorry you had to hear that, but it wasn't true.”

You shake your head.

“Look- It's alright- you don't have to say anything to make me feel better I get it-” You stand, fighting the thick feeling of the air around you both, “-I'm probably not pretty compared to all the other women you've dated, and maybe you've just realized that-”

Your voice cuts off when he stands too, your body freezing up once more as you catch the stern expression on his face.

He's like a predator, the way he moves forward, corralling you until you're pressed against the bedroom wall.

You try to appear calm, though you can feel each time blood pulses into your brain.

His eyes are so dark, you can barely see his pupil, you have to tilt your head up to keep eye contact the closer he gets.

He gets close enough that you can feel the soft brush of his breath on your cheek, his arms pressed to either side of you to cage you in.

“Dinah and I were only together for a few months. I wouldn’t open up to her, and she wouldn’t open up to me. She once told me that I was incapable of making a real connection with someone, and maybe I carried that into my next relationship, but you… are the first real connection I’ve made in a really long time.”

You blink, your insides responding positively to his words.

“I said those things to her because what you really mean to me, is absolutely none of her business.”

“And what do I mean to you?” You ask softly, a depth of challenge in your voice, a silent plea to mean more to him than you think you do.

The corners of his mouth just barely tilt upwards, one of his hands move to cup your cheek.

“So much more than you know. It hurts me to hear you talk down on yourself, it pains to hear you suggest leaving.”

He leans in further, his face beside yours so that he can whisper in your ear.

“I want you, more than I can even understand and I've been thinking about you from the moment we first met.”

You gulp, raising a hand to touch his shoulder, smoothing down the length of his arm.

He takes your wrist in his hand, pressing it against the wall beside your head.

You gasp, turning to look at him in surprise at the meaningful way he moved.

His nose brushes yours, and you can't help tilting your face up in hopes that he kisses you.

“It's not easy to find words for,” he thinks for a moment before smiling, “If I liked you less, maybe I would talk about it more.”

“That's Jane Austen.” You whisper.

The corner of his lip twitches.

“Yeah, maybe she's on to something.” 

You feel his thumb swipe gently over the fluttering pulse at your wrist.

His head moves, his nose trailing a path over your cheek, to your ear. You stay perfectly still, heart hammering, but unwilling to break him from whatever thoughts he seemed to be in.

He drops his head till his face is pressed to the base of your neck, you feel and hear him take a deep breath.

“You smell good.” His voice is a low grovel.

“Thank you.” You whisper in response, feeling him take another slow breath, your body growing aroused at your positions.

He lets out a soft hum of appreciation, you stand there a little surprised at his actions. Was he just breathing you in?

His lips brush your neck and you feel a jolt of heat spear into your stomach. 

Your skin tingles, all you can feel besides his mouth on your skin and his breathing in your hair is your body begging him for more.

You wanted him to touch you, to trail his hands over your skin. You ached to just be felt, and not even in a sexual way. You wanted him to learn you, explore the feel of you so you would know what that felt like.

Do people even do that? Do they explore each other simply for the pleasure of it? You're not sure, but more and more you want to know everything about him.

You feel his grip tighten on your wrist, feeling him lean more against you as if he can't bear the thought of being apart. He stiffens, raising his head from its place, buried in your neck. His eyes are…

strange, there's something a little odd about them, but you don’t get the chance to investigate further.

“Excuse me.” He grunts out  before he's drawing away, and stepping out of your room with meaningful steps.

This time, your stomach fills with warmth and affection to watch him go. Almost intuitively knowing that his departure is based on a heavy desire for you, one that he was worried about losing control over, and not dislike, as you might have previously thought.

He really likes me, is what you think to yourself as the door closes.

.

You swear you're not trying to torment him on purpose, but it's funny how things work out like that.

You tap your pen against your lips, raising your eyebrows curiously when you glance over at him and find him already looking at you.

He looks so calm, except you know him a little bit better now, you watch his eyes drift to your lips, the same dark red you'd worn before.

Somewhere at the front of the room, there's a presentation happening, some routine safety briefings being spoken about.

You smile, looking down, and when you glance back at him, he's still got his eyes on you.

You could feel it in your bones, in that spot behind your navel- it was only a matter of time before you gave in to the tension between you.

The image of it just pops into your head with no warning, the way he might tug at your clothes frantically, breathless kisses, low groans as he gets you naked. His firm press of your body against his desk, or the first flat surface. The reminder of the way his hands feel on your skin, his mouth- you blink, swallowing, looking down at the pen in your hands as you let the memories of him overwhelm you.

You wanted him in so many ways, over and over, you almost felt insane with need. All you could feel is the ache inside of you, a space craving to be filled.

Your body responds eagerly to your thoughts, you swallow, shifting uncomfortably in your seat as arousal dampens your underwear.

You try to avoid looking at him as you let the debauched thoughts consume you. The imagery of him naked, all those delicious scars on display for your mouth to explore, the way you wanted to taste the path from his cock up to the base of his navel. You press your thighs together, aching for his touch. 

He'd probably touch you too, if you asked nicely enough. Maybe he would give you just what you needed.

You fight the groan of desire that builds in your chest, blinking and looking up to reorient your mind in the room. The HR rep is on his closing speech and you're thankful that this is almost over. Your eyes drift to where Billy is sitting, and your breath halts suddenly when you find his eyes on you.

You feel warmth flush in your face, his eyes are heated, the expression on his face is calm but- but the look in his eye promises pleasure beyond comprehension.

It’s like he knows exactly what you’re thinking, and for a moment you wonder if he can hear your thoughts.

The sound of a binder closing breaks you from your daze. You blink, breathing in a slow breath, looking around. You meet some of your coworker’s eyes, smiling at them, hoping that they hadn’t witnessed you and Billy basically eye-fucking each other into next week.

You spare a glance at him, wondering if you should take the time to say something, or just leave. You’re unsure of how to navigate here, knowing that no one else knows how close you really are to each other.

You decide against causing any drama- or give anyone a reason to chat about you. You suck in a slow breath, gathering your items before rising to a stand, to walk out of the conference room.

You feel his eyes on your back all the way out.

You keep your breathing even as you walk, there’s a pounding in your ears, the thump of your footsteps on the ground.

When there’s a sudden grip on your arm, you gasp, head swivelling in shock and mild fear to see Billy right beside you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He hums, pressing you somewhere. Your legs move where he guides, trying to stay upright with his firm steer on your body.

It doesn’t really register that he’s pushed you into a dark supply closet until you hear the door locked behind him.

“Is- everything okay?” You stutter out, heart hammering in anticipation.

“No it’s not.” He grunts out, taking the little items from your hands and placing them onto the shelf above your head in a meaningful motion.

You open your mouth to ask him what he was doing but you don’t get the chance. His fingers grip the back of your head, pulling your body against his, Your hands reaching up to steady yourself on his shoulders.

His forehead pressed to yours, you feel his breath on your lips as he exhales.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, voice almost hoarse, “please say yes.”

You’re shocked at the desperate way he sounds, as if there’s no sanity left in him.

“Please please please, let me kiss you.”

Fuck. Did you really have him this way?

“Yes.” You rush out, before lifting your chin to seal your mouth to his.

Absolute sparks, tingles where your lips meet his. You share a groan, before drawing back so that you can kiss him again. His other hand raises, both gripping your neck with such tender attention that you get lost in it so quickly.

It's not enough, none of it is, you rise onto the tips of your toes, a smile on your lips as you press your body to his. A shared breath between you, remarkably slow for two desperate people.

His mouth leaves your lips, a kiss to your cheek, another right below your ear.

“I'd get down on my knees right now if you asked. Workplace etiquette be damned. Just say the word and my tongue is yours.”

You groan.

Holy fuck was he real? You tilt your head back as his mouth peppers kisses over the column of your neck, you're not sure who moves, if it's you looking for purchase, or him guiding you, but your back presses to the door, nowhere to go. 

Your hand dips into his hair, pulling him close, he hums, one firm hand drifting down your body to grip your hip. 

You're about to give in, tell him that you need him so badly that you can't wrap your head around it. However, at the same time, you stiffen when you hear several footfalls outside, and laughter as clear as if there was no door between you.

If you could hear that, then it's no question whether you'd be heard, maybe discovered before anything really good happened.

Billy pauses, raising his head having felt you go stiff in his arms, you study his dark eyes for a few moments, longing to live within the few seconds you'd gotten with him.

“We shouldn't.” You whisper, hands smoothing over his broad shoulders.

He nods, accepting, a hand raising to push an errant strand of hair out of your eyes.

“You're… really beautiful.” He responds next, and it feels like a cord’s been looped around your intestines, tangled in your heart, tugging gently in any direction it can.

You can only give him a shy smile, before looking away.

“And you,” you reply, lifting your head to return a compliment, eyes catching on his mouth and you notice something is off. You smile, raising a hand to the corner of his bottom lip, “-have lipstick on your mouth.”

He grins, teeth on display for you as you work carefully to rid him of any lipstick remnants.

“I'd wear it with pride if I could.” He confesses, studying you intently.

All you can do is smile in response, feeling so light in his presence.

.

He's lying in the forest, thinking about your cunt.

He feels at peace here, body lying in the dirt with the trees all around him, the sound of rushing water somewhere in the distance and he sighs, thinking about your wet little cunt.

It's like you hear him, your slow footsteps approaching, the crunch of grass beneath your bare feet.

Another dream, he realises, when he lifts his head to look up at you and he finds you naked, realising that he's naked as well.

He watches you approach, and when you're beside him, he extends a hand to help you remain balanced as you seat your body on his, that delicate cunt of yours pressed to his adonis belt.

Your fingers trace his skin, he can feel his cock swelling at the sensation.

Your hand drifts up, cupping his face your thumb pressing against his lips.

He feels like yours, wholly, lying in his most peaceful spot, ready to give himself over to any whim, any desire, parting his lips so that you can press your thumb into his mouth.

He feels a connection building in the back of his head, swears he can almost feel you there, and he wishes with every fiber of his being that it could be possible.

He reaches to grip your hips firmly, no words need to be said as he guides your body upwards, your thumb slipping from his mouth as he settles your thighs around his face.

He takes a deep breath, basks in the scent of your desire, of a cunt just as desperate for him as he is.

His eyes roll back in his head as his tongue darts out to taste you. A sweet sigh from your mouth that only encourages him. He starts slow, he wants to savour this, he wants to wring every drop of pleasure from your flushed body.

You whine his name. He grips your hips to press your cunt more firmly to his tongue.

So good, so good, is the only thing his brain can formulate, licking your clit repeatedly, getting high on your moans and the tart taste of your cunt.

He feels you rock your hips against his face. He simmers with the delight, loves his precious mate using him for her pleasure, taking what she needs.

He is yours, after all.

Hands tighten in his hair, you must have gripped it at some point, your grinding growing sharper, desperate. He keeps his tongue out for you to rub against.

Gripping your ass tightly in anticipation, knowing you're right on that edge and he'd do anything, anything to taste your orgasm.

He's alone when he wakes up. Upset and unhinged, he angrily climbs out of bed and is out of his bedroom in seconds. 

He wants you, he wants to barge into your room and drop to his knees so he can bury his face between your thighs.

He needs this- he needs- he feels his body shudder at the desire that spreads through him. The panther awakens fully, growling in his head, reminding him of every detail of his dream.

The smell of strawberries fills his nose as he gets your door open quietly.

There you are, asleep in your bed, he tilts his head at the peaceful way you look.

It's what makes him pause, blink in realisation of what he was about to do. He backs away in shock, the predator surging forward angrily, urging him to go to you.

He takes another step back at the way he feels himself losing control. Something was wrong with him. 

He blinks, sudden awareness of what day it was, or rather, what phase of the moon was almost above head.

Billy backs away from your door, cock swollen and aching, needing a cold shower more than anything.

.

The full moon was close. 

He'd verified it after an icy shower, the panther demanding he give in to his base urges, clawing at him to feed, to fight, and most importantly, to fuck.

He squeezes his eyes shut, shakes his head, he couldn't give into it now, who knows how rough he might be, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to go softer if you asked, and that was the most sobering thought of them all. The first time he'd been with you, he'd bruised your wrist, and that hadn't even been near a full moon.

It was safer to wait this out, keep you at arm's length until he had his full sanity back.

But of course, the universe is seldom kind, especially to him, and he watches as you step into his line of sight from his spot in the kitchen, wearing nothing but a towel.

He watches you evenly, fingers tightening on the mug of coffee in his hand, his sensitive hearing warns that the cup might shatter if he squeezes any tighter.

“Going for a swim. You can come if you like?” 

He keeps his expression calm, tries not to think of how you look naked, fights the panther for the braincells necessary to respond.

“You go ahead, sweetheart, I've got some work emails to glance at really quickly.”

You smile at him, and he feels like the air has thickened, slowing time in his head so that he can look at you for a few moments more.

“Okay.” You say happily, turning to make your way down his staircase, the smell of your skin lingering in the air.

The panther isn't kind to him this time, pushing images of you, lying in your front below him, face pressed into the bed while he fucks into you from behind.

Billy stifles a groan, thinking about the sweet sounds you make, about how tight your delicious cunt is.

He was in so much trouble.

.

He's a little distant, you notice.

Not unbelievably so, but it's definitely there.

He can't seem to spend time in a room with you, always finding an excuse to leave, or maybe work really had gotten stressful for him.

He was a CEO after all, maybe he was just busy.

You sit in his sunroom, looking out with a sigh, you'd been feeling antsy lately, stuck between his house and your work and the occasional visit to Amy’s. Other than that, you'd felt really stagnant.

For a moment, you find yourself wishing you were in the woods camping again. Exploring with your friends, photographing any amazing thing you'd find. You frown when you remember the way your lungs felt while running away. 

Maybe you could do something for him that would help you take your mind off of feeling this way. It couldn't hurt to show him how appreciative you were of his protection and it would hopefully help him feel better too. 

To lift your phone to your face, smiling as you begin planning.

.

He's been sitting in his office, listening to your heartbeat for the last two hours.

As a precaution, he'd shoved his desk against the door, to slow the panther down if he somehow managed to take control of him. 

His nails are embedded in his palm, the pain keeping him locked into his body and all he can hear is the thumpthumpthumpthump of your heart.

His office is the one place your scent is weakest, he can't even go into his own bed without scenting you in the sheets. You're everywhere, like his home is yours and though on a normal day he'd relish the thought, today it's torture.

Would things be different if you were actually together? Maybe. He wouldn't have been so frustrated in the first place.

Billy tilts head back, sucks in a deep breath. He can't see this desire for you fading. He worries that he'll always be this unhinged around you on a full moon.

He squeezes his eyes shut, giving the panther the right moment to push more thoughts into his head.

He'd stalk you through your home, enjoying the scent of your arousal in the air. He'd tear your clothes to shreds, bury his face between your soft thighs and listen to you cry with need. 

He'd hover above you, ask you for permission, make you beg to be fucked as hard as he wants to fuck you. 

The sounds you'd make, as his hips met yours furiously, he'd feel you clench around him, he'd lick the sweat off your skin.

Your eyes, full of tears as he gives and gives, ridding you of any doubt of who you belonged to.

He doesn't realize where he is until his nose is pressed to the column of your neck.

You make a small sound of surprise, turning to look up at him, he's somehow found himself in the kitchen, an arm wrapped around you as he stands behind.

You smile up at him, unaware that his control is crumbling, you tilt your head up, a silent ask for a kiss.

The panther purrs in his head when your lips meet, he feels you sigh into the kiss, your body relaxing.

His hand grips your jaw when he tries to move away, keeping your head tilted up for him, so that he can kiss you for just a little longer.

“Sorry.” He says- can't believe that's the sound of his voice, “Got a little carried away.”

You turn in his arms, smiling up at him.

“That's okay.” You hum, your hands wrapping around his shoulders as best as possible.

The smell of raw meat catches his attention.

“What are you making?” He asks

“Steak for you, chicken for me. Just something to say thank you for all your help.”

The panther purrs louder in his head.

“You're- cooking for me?”

“Mhmm, we can't go out much, so I could use a distraction, and you've been so caught up working. I just thought I'd make you something.”

“Thank you.” He hums, still in disbelief.

He's not sure why he's surprised, you've cooked many meals together, but usually he's there to help. The idea that you'd feel comfortable enough to use his kitchen without him, only reinforces how comfortable you are in his space.

You smile, turning back to what you were doing, and before he can make a second thought, the panther shoves the image of his cum dripping from your cunt into his mind.

He backs away, retreating into his office quickly before you even notice that he's gone.

.

Something’s so weird about him right now. 

For the first time you can see anxiety written into his movements, unsure and hesitant when he reaches for his glass of water.

You’d worked hard, maybe turned the steak just a little bit past rare. Placed beside some creamy asparagus and some crispy fries that were amazingly delicious and it was safe to say you were proud of the final product.

You’d taken the food up to the sunroof, lit candles all around the table and the space heater running,  hoping to warm up the space with winter almost upon the city.  

You’d knocked shyly on his office door, letting him know to come up, and you’d grabbed some drinks on the way back.

He’d given you such a happy smile, one that had looked so gorgeous on his face, made you want to kiss him right then and there. 

It had made it worth it, and then his further delight at tasting the food made your insides flutter all over again.

He stops looking so unsure of himself the minute he starts eating, you can tell he’s focused on the meal for the time being, and you get to relax and enjoy each other’s company.

“So, you told me you liked cats- are they your favourite?” You ask, giving him a smile as he looks up.

It’s light, you know that, you don’t want to pry into any deep personal questions right now, you just want to hear the sound of his voice as he sits across from you.

“I think so. I can’t think of another animal I like more.”

“Interesting.” You say, leaning forward to grab your glass of wine, “I don’t know a lot of men that like cats.”

He nods in understanding.

“It’s the consent. It’s hard for some people to wrap their heads around the idea that animals need their boundaries respected too.”

“You’re not a real person.”

It’s such an absurd thing to say that it makes him laugh, which in turn puts a smile on your face.

“Did you have any pets growing up?” You ask.

Your heart sinks when he stops smiling almost instantly.

You can see the memory of it cross his face, the heartbreak of it all. You can tell whatever it was is ingrained into his psyche so deep that it’ll never leave him.

He swallows, looking down.

What do you say? Tell me more? It’s okay if you don’t want to? What would be the right words?

You stand, his eyes flit up to observe you as you thump across to his side of the table, before dropping into the space beside him and pulling him into a fierce hug.

He takes a deep breath of surprise, one hand moving cautiously around you, before he goes all in, pulling you into him, pressing his face into your neck.

“It can’t hurt you now. I promise.” You mutter against him, and his hold tightens in response.

“Her name was Della. She was a- a little kitten searching the dumpsters for scraps just like I was. Her fur was soft, so soft that I can never forget the feeling of it.”

Tears spring to your eyes, being soaked up by his shirt almost as fast as they come.

“The group home didn’t allow pets, I snuck her in anyway. I’d feed her before I would eat. Every potential foster that came by, I’d ask them how they felt about cats. If they were against them, I’d act out. Until I finally found a family that would take me and her.”

He’s quiet, shaking his head.

“When they found out they were expecting, they put me right back in the group home, but they kept her. After a few months, they moved away, and I never saw Della again.”

“It was probably for the best. I could barely take care of me, I would never be able to help her if she got sick but…”

“But you loved her.” You finish for him.

“I did. I do. I don’t say that much, but she was everything to me when I had absolutely nothing.”

You bury a hand in his hair, holding onto him tightly, wanting him to feel some semblance of the adoration he’d had back then.

Even more, you want to take that pain away from him, you wished you could soak it up, all of his hurt and his endless supply of trauma and replace it with something good.

After a long while of you holding each other, you finally find the willpower to pull away. There’s an understanding between you now, a line that’s been crossed. 

You smile up at him, and you turn, reaching across the table to grab your plate of food, settling against him as you continue your meal.

“You’re a good man, Billy.” You say after a while, deep in contemplation.

“Maybe the best man I’ve ever met.”

You can almost feel his fond smile.

.

You finish dinner peacefully, using small talk to avoid deep conversations. You spend the evening enjoying his presence, laughing with him, leaning against him.

Kissing him.

You can tell there’s something there, beneath his cool exterior, something that urges him to press his mouth to yours harsher than he usually does, his fingers so easily gripping the back of your neck, demanding your submission.

He manages to keep himself in check though, despite the fire in his eyes, he doesn’t do more than kiss you.

Yet, you find yourself yearning for it more and more.

You bump his shoulder as you wipe a dish dry, staring at the distorted kitchen sink through the wine glass.

He makes a sound of amusement, gently bumping you in return.

“I’ve been thinking…” You start, and struggle to find the right words to finish your sentence.

He passes you another dish when you find the right spot for the wine glass.

You hesitate for too long, deep in your own thoughts, fear and the worry of rejection holding your mouth hostage.

He bumps against you playfully, and you almost drop the dish, cupping it securely after a moment.

A quick laugh of surprise and you glance at him to see that playful look on his face.

“What is it?” He asks, reminding you of what you had just been about to say.

“Oh god, nevermind.” You groan, feeling embarrassed.

“Tell me.” He pries in a light tone of voice.

You shake your head.

“I was only going to say- that I think I might be ready? Well, I know I am, I just said ‘think’ because I didn't wanna come on too strong but uh I've never really had to say this out loud so forgive my awkwardness about it and I just wanted you to know- I mean- we don't have to do anything now and maybe you might not even want to but I just wanted you to know with no doubts in case it gets lost somewhere-”

The sound of your name on his lips interrupts your mindless rambles, and you give him an apologetic look. He takes the very dry dish from your hand and puts it in its proper place calmly before turning back to you.

His hands on your cheeks, cold and raisined from having his hands in the water, but you smile up at him softly.

He studies you, eyes tracing across your face like you're a book he wants so badly to read.

“What do you mean by ready?” He asks.

“For… us.” You confirm hoping you get your point across. 

“Us?”

“You and me.”

“Us.”

“Yeah.”

He stands still, studying you, as you can feel your beating heart, squeezing in your chest, pounding in anticipation of what he's going to say.

“I- would really like to be an ‘us.’” 

It makes your heart beat that much faster.

He closes his eyes, a look of regret briefly crossing his face that makes your stomach twist.

He presses his forehead to yours, and you're forced to look down or get a headache from trying to focus on him.

“I can't stay. I have to go.”

You blink in surprise, drawing back so that you can look him in the eye for an explanation.

“For work,” he elaborates, “we were having such a good time I didn't want to mess it up before I really had to.”

You feel sadness overcome you.

You take a deep breath in, slowly let it out.

“Oh.” It's the most you can voice.

He has to leave for work, in the middle of you asking to be with him?

“I'm sorry, please believe me when I say I'm not running, I want to stay. I want to be with you. I won't be gone long, just three nights. I'll ask Dinah to increase patrol outside, and you can go anywhere you want in my house, treat it like it's yours.”

Agony twists inside of you at the idea of being away from him, paired with the shock of having this dropped on you so quickly.

Your head spins, you're not sure what to say, all you know is that you'll regret it if you let him leave on an upset note.

You reach out to take his hand, smiling up at his beautiful face.

“I get it. You manage a lot of people's safety, not just mine. I'll be fine, and we can talk about it later.”

He lets out a shaky breath.

You reach for each other at the same time, his hand on your cheek, yours to his.

The kiss is soft and earnest, open and vulnerable, a parting gift between you.

“I'll see you in three days, yeah?” You whisper lightly, trying to squash the undeniable despair threatening to choke you.

.

.

.

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

1) You can imagine it any way you like, but I'd like to assume that he went up to her door in human form and then shifted there, scrubbed the cameras after or something.

2)I'm not telling

3) I'm still not telling

Teeth

Part 9!

Werepanther!Billy Russo x Female Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: Angst, anxiety, implications of murder.

You twitch your toes, waiting till there's a knock on your door.

Blinking, you open it carefully, trying not to fiddle with your fingers as the anxiety threatens to overwhelm you.

"Thank you for this." You say, looking up at Billy, before looking away.

He's dressed in his work clothes- suit and tie, looking at you so carefully that you feel like he can see so much more of you that you'd care to admit.

"I'm glad you called." Billy says, voice low, taking a step back to let you lock up, "Didn't like the idea of you trying to go down there alone."

You let out a dry laugh.

"I tried, but I just couldn't do it." You say to him.

"You look like you haven't slept." His voice is gentle, like a welcome hand on your back, rubbing circles to calm you.

You smile sadly at him.

"I haven't- I- I can't-"

"It's okay, we'll figure it out." Billy says, reassuring you that nothing you're going through is abnormal in any way.

You reach for his hand, squeezing it gently.

"Thank you." You say, trying to express your earnesty, glad to have someone as understanding as him with you.

His car is... sublime.

Gorgeous, sleek in its aerodynamic design.

You're not too familiar with car models, but you catch the BMW logo on the front of the black car, smiling as he opens the passenger door for you.

You settle yourself in, admiring the supple interior, and the simplicity of it.

"Honestly, this is not what I thought you drove." You confess to him when he climbs into the car.

The engine absolutely purrs to live, revving beautifully, tingling your eardrums with the low sound.

"What did you think I drove?" Billy asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

It suddenly made you aware that you may have been about to tell him you thought he was extravagant.

"Okay, I just realised what I thought you drove made zero sense and I would like to retract my comment."

He grins at you, deviousness leeching out of his every pore. It makes you simmer with delight.

"No way, tell me."

"Well, I thought someone like you- CEO of a company that is- drove what other CEOs of companies tend to drive."

"An Aston? Lamborghini? Ferrari?"

"All of the above?" You supply with a light hint of an apology in your tone.

He laughs, and the sound is nothing short of divine. You wanted to memorize the funniest jokes just to hear him laugh again.

"I'm not that ostentatious. I run a security company, being unseen is my ally, and luxury cars like that are just impractical."

"I guess that makes sense." You mumble, deep in thought.

"But I have to admit that I did buy a Royce the first year my company lifted off."

"Of course you did." You tease lightly, with no malicious intent behind your words.

He gives you a little lift of his shoulder.

"It's the little things sometimes."

How easy talking to him was, so very dangerous in so many ways, you were always just two steps shy of flirting with him. He made talking to him so simple, made you forget about ever being anxious in the first place.

You were definitely in trouble.

.

"That's it?" You asked when the officer returns your bag to you, informing you that the items were left behind when the suspects realised they were being chased.

"What about my jewellery?" You ask, heart squeezing in your chest.

She gives you an apologetic shake of her head.

"Jewellery is usually a lot harder to recover, it might have already been pawned off. We'll keep an eye out, but I wouldn't get my hopes up."

Your heart sinks. You nod, thanking her before turning and walking back to a waiting Billy.

"I got my laptop and wallet back." You murmur, avoiding his dark eyes, trying very hard not to cry in front of your boss.

"That's everything?" He asks, "Do you want to go home?"

You swallow, nodding quickly and walking past him.

You hold this awful, rotten feeling inside of you all the way back to his car, but when you get in, and you close the door, the tears refuse to be ignored any longer.

Billy says your name with concern when he notices you crying.

You let out a shaky sob.

"I'm sorry." You whimper, pressing your face into your hands to hide from him as you weep pathetically.

It takes all of a second before he's pulling you against him, your bodies at an odd angle to allow you to fit against each other with the centre console of the car in the way.

"What is it?" He asks, "What's wrong?"

You lean against him, hands gripping at his bicep in an attempt to pull comfort from him.

"I knew the odds of getting the necklace back but I was hoping it wouldn't be true." You start, reaching into your bag and finding your packet of tissues hidden in the lining.

"I just- I know it's not that important in the scheme of things but-" you sigh, "-I really loved that necklace."

"It is important. If you loved it, then it's important. Don't lose hope, you can still get it back." Billy tries to soothe, his warm breath on your cheek, so maddeningly close.

You cry against him a little bit more.

"It just made me feel safe. After- after every terrible thing that happened. It made me feel like I was being protected by something much bigger than myself. But-" You shudder out a sad breath, "-not even that is true."

His arms tighten around you.

.

He wants to make so many promises to you in that moment.

Billy wants to promise that he'll do everything he can to keep you safe, that he's here no matter what. He breathes in your scent and squeezes his eyes shut and hates that he'd given someone the opportunity to lay their hands on you.

His sweet girl didn't deserve this, and Billy was going to do everything in his power to get you that necklace back.

You were his to protect, above all else.

.

You fall asleep on the drive back to your place, a sudden bout of traffic turning the ten minute drive into thirty minutes.

There's just something about being around him, that slows every rushing thought in your head, you find yourself so relaxed in his presence and before you know it, you're asleep in minutes. The events of the last two days have taken a toll, and you sleep so deeply that you don't register a single thing.

You don't wake, not even when he picks you up, scooping you into his arms so easily that you would be amazed if you weren't asleep.

He places you in bed, tugging your shoes off, before dimming the lights.

You only truly wake up, when you hear your bedroom door open, an indication that he was leaving.

"Billy." You call out for him, fighting to sit up, rubbing one eye to regain your focus.

He's paused at the door, looking back at you.

"Can you stay a little longer? Just until I get to sleep?" You let out a little sigh, "I've asked a lot of you already, so you can say no, I won't hold it against you. But I just-"

"I get it." Billy says, interrupting. He turns from the door, moving confidently to your bed, and carefully placing himself on top.

It's kind of hilarious, he's still in his finely pressed work shirt and pants, having shed his jacket and tie at some unobservable point. If you were more comfortable with him, you would have insisted that he change before lying beside you.

But your level of exhaustion is too great to worry about anything, not lying in bed beside your boss, and definitely not moving closer to him till you're almost touching but not exactly.

You look up at him with sleepy eyes, and he carefully raises a hand to your cheek to brush some of your hair out of your face.

"Thank you." You murmur, taking his hand in yours, pressing the warm appendage to your chilled cheek.

You can't help it in your sleepy state, curling closer to him, head resting in the crook of his arm.

"Just five minutes," you try to reason with him as if he's protesting in any kind of way, "Just until I get to sleep."

"I'm here." He says softly, as you drift off in the depths of his scent.

.

He stays for an hour after you fall asleep, trying very hard to talk himself into getting up and leaving.

It's just that you look so at peace, your head resting on his bicep that is half asleep with the loss of circulation.

The beast purrs, subdued, inside of him, eager to look at you, and be near to you, though he knows he shouldn't stay.

He's not taking advantage, he doesn't want you to even think he was capable. Billy has spent years curating a steady hand on his self control, only to have you rip right through it like its paper in five minutes with your bare hands and a sweet smile.

What would an eternity of this feel like? He wonders. How often would he find himself lost in your strawberry scent if he could?

His mouth waters.

He shudders in a deep breath.

You hum, drawing closer to him, he swallows when your palm connects with his clothed chest.

His eyes fall on the scratches at your neck, he tilts his head, studying it with careful eyes. He memorises the look of them, the way they make him feel. He latches onto the emotion, plants a seed of rage inside himself, watered by the beast's thirst for retribution.

Someone had dared to hurt you, and thought they were capable of getting away with it.

Billy needed to send a message.

One that would not be misunderstood.

.

You wake up alone.

Groaning angrily after a night of such peaceful sleep only to wake up and realized that he'd left just like you'd asked him to.

Was it too much to wish that he'd stayed? That he couldn't help himself and fell asleep beside you?

Of course it was, and it was a very dangerous, no good thought.

He was your boss, he was in control of your salary, you shouldn't be pining over him like some lovesick puppy.

The lines between personal and professional had been painfully blurred since the moment you'd started working for him, maybe even before, and yet still you wished it would blur farther.

What would waking up next to him be like? Hell, what would seeing him asleep be like? Would the harsh lines of his face soften till you couldn't tell his age? Would he make little sounds as he slept?

And then the scariest thought of all comes to mind.

Did he even want that with you?

Probably not, considering that he's left your 'Thank you again for last night' text on fucking read.

It was worse than not reading it. It had been hours since the read receipt was activated and yet still, he hadn't responded.

Maybe he was busy, you try to not let it get to you, deciding to go through your laptop and see if anything was tampered with in the meantime.

You still find difficulty in leaving your apartment. You try for hours, sitting at your open front door in an attempt to get used to the idea of it.

Everytime you try to leave your heart starts racing, your body shakes, all you can think about is what terrible fate would befall you next.

Thankfully, after a quick call to your therapist, she suggests starting smaller, with an open window.

It's how you end up on your balcony, sitting next to Dani's gift, soaking in the sunlight.

This was nice, this was good, outside was not something to be scared of.

But facing Billy's home- just reminded you of him.

Still left on read, you drop your phone angrily.

What did you want? A romantic relationship with him? That wasn't sustainable at all. You should definitely just avoid him, the way he was no doubt avoiding you.

Your hand spreads over your bare throat and you let out a sad sigh.

You wished you could feel safe again.

When night comes, you can't sleep once more. There's no Billy here to put you at ease, nothing to make you feel safe and warm and protected. The worries in your head are too loud, there's an agony to not being able to relax in your own home.

Amy is sympathetic to your plight, staying on the phone with you as long as possible until she inevitably falls asleep, and you're left alone once more with a world of thoughts.

You hadn't gotten any other type of communication from whoever had taken that photo of you. Had they given up? Or lost you after you changed both your address and your job?

Something in the back of your head, maybe fear, or just past experience, told you that things probably wouldn't be over that easily.

A sound catches your attention, as you gaze off into your room deep in thought, echoing through the apartment before it reaches you.

You raise your head, your heart pounding as you realise it's coming from the front door.

Was someone trying to break in? You reach for your phone, trying to be as quiet as possible as you climb off your bed.

Who should you call? Billy? No, it was 2am you should see what it was first.

As you get closer, you register that it sounds like soft scratching, a very strange sound for a potential thief to be making.

"Hello?" You call through the door, perplexed at the sound.

When there's a low rumble back at you, you take a deep breath and unlock the door quickly, pulling it open with a rush.

You squeak in surprise.

Midnight black fur, golden brown eyes looking up at you.

The panther, sitting patiently at your door.

"What the hell?" You say in disbelief, taking a step back, hands covering your mouth in shock.

There was a large beast sitting at your door.

The panther, somehow taking this as an invitation, stands, and walks slowly toward you.

You can't believe it, was this a prank or had you gone insane? How had a dangerous animal of this size gotten into your apartment building in the first place?

You step backwards as it approaches, taking slow steps as if it's somehow trying to put you at ease.

Your body smacks into the side of your couch and you stiffen as it gets close enough to touch you.

A soft head bumps against your thigh, your mouth parts with shock at the greeting.

There's a little purring sound it makes as it rubs its head over your thigh gently, eerily similar to what it did the last time you encountered it.

Last time...

Before it had saved you from a knife wielding serial killer.

"It's you." You say, in absolute surprise, your body building a strange cocktail of shock and calm inside of you.

The panther rumbles in something akin to agreement as if to say, 'yes, hello again.'

You reach for the large cat, shaky hands smoothing into the butter soft fur on its head, after a moment, when you realise there's no immediate threat, you let out a laugh of surprise.

It closes its eyes, nuzzling easily into your palms.

"Hey pretty boy." You murmur eagerly, speaking to him in a light tone that you can tell he loves based on the way he continues to purr, a deep vibration against your palms as you bring your face closer to his to rub your head against his affectionately.

He pulls away after a second, and you watch with an open mouth as he casually walks his way deeper into your aparment.

You move to follow before remembering that your front door is still open.

After hastily shutting your front door, you follow after where you saw him last, finding that your bedroom door has been pushed open at the end of your hallway.

There you find the large predator, lying on your bed.

You approach a little cautiously, very confused about what was going on.

He drops his head, and from his mouth, something shiny and gold falls onto your bedsheets.

The panther looks up at you eagerly as you move closer to investigate.

It was your necklace.

You gasp, reaching for it, picking it up to examine the little pendant eagerly, a little symbol of the large beast in front of you, dangling from a delicate gold chain.

You don't hesitate, clasping it around your neck excitedly before moving to your little vanity to examine yourself in the mirror.

The panther had brought your necklace back.

The panther... was in the city with you.

You turn to study the predator on your bed, and it looks back at you in kind, its tail twitching in what you assume is contentment on your bed.

How had this panther gotten all this way without being caught? Had someone trained it to bring this to you?

You tilt your head, and blink in astonishment when the panther also tilts its head to mimic you. When you straighten your head, it does the same.

You didn't think this was just another trained animal, there was something in its eyes, an understanding that you weren't familiar with.

You were probably going crazy, hallucinating, or maybe this was a dream.

You look down, counting your fingers. Not a dream.

This was real.

There was a real panther in your bed.

Or was it?

"Can you... understand me?" You ask, almost absurdly to the animal.

Its answer is to flop onto its side with a big huff.

"Is that a yes?"

Another huff of breath.

You approach the beast slowly, sitting at the edge of your bed, reaching out to touch one big paw, its fur so soft you're almost addicted to the way it feels.

"You're..... not.... jut a panther are you?"

A flick of its tail, the flex of its paw to show off the very sharp claws hidden between toes. You retract your hand at the sight of such a deadly appendage.

"Are you... also a human?" You ask, aware of how certifiably insane you sounded.

What other explaination was there? How had a panther brought you back a necklace? How had it known how to get to you?

The beast takes a deep breath, letting out another sharp huff.

You gaze away for a long time, your brain scrambled with too many thoughts, too many rushing ideas and reactions.

After a second you look back into its golden eyes.

"That was a yes?"

A huff.

You gulp, turning away, sitting at the edge of the bed trying to process the information given to you.

Shapeshifters? Shapeshifters were a thing?

"Oh god." You say, almost sick to your stomach at the implication.

As if it senses your distress, the panther crawls closer, and rests its large head onto your lap. Automatically, you raise a hand to stroke its head. Almost immediately, an arrangement of soft purring starts up, its eyes closing easily..

You can't help smiling, hands roaming over its ears, watching them with amusement as they flicker and twitch.

"You're kind of cute." You say to it- to him.

His response is to let out a soft sigh.

You observe him, admiring the way he looks, eyes drawn to the peek of teeth jutting out from his mouth.

"You're kind of scary too."

He peeks an eye open to look at you.

"Will you show me who you are?" You ask.

It's the wrong thing to say, because the panther's response is to pull away from you.

He stands on your bed, giving you his back and lying down facing away from you.

"Message received." You mumble.

You sit and stare at his back, raising your hand to touch the pendant around your neck, thinking quietly about everything.

The situation is absurd, beyond that even, there's no words to describe what you're going through. You can't seem to figure out why you're so calm, as if there was a puzzle piece in your head that has always been there, but just sitting in the wrong spot.

Now, things are just clicking into place, making more and more sense, but also showing you a side of the world that you didn't even know existed.

You feel your body overheat with the amount of thinking you're doing, you're not sure how you can even continue to exist with this knowledge-

You don't even realise you're unable to breathe until you wheeze out a gasp.

The panther, hearing just a single sound of distress, turns to face you quickly.

The bed dips as he stands and approaches.

"It's a lot." You whisper, looking up at the predator, tears blurring your vision.

His furry head bumps your cheek, an attempt to soothe you through your little freak out.

You feel him nudge you into a reclined position, and you let him, because you're too caught up in your shock to process anything really happening around you.

The panther grips your duvet in his teeth, and pulls it up till it covers your shoulders.

Slipping under it beside you, you study your hands intently, your focus.only breaking when he pops his furry head as close to your face as possible without touching.

You pause your self destructive thinking to study him, hand automatically trailing from the top of his head down his back.

It calms you, and after a few moments like that, you suck in an easy breath.

"You saved my life." You say to him, watching his ear twitch as you glide your hands over them. He doesn't react, merely looking at you while you're deep in thought.

You rest beside him, eyes drooping involuntarily, trying to stay awake and memorise the look of this animal in your bed with every sense you can.

"Thank you." Is the last thing you whisper quietly, voice just above a whisper, burying your head into his neck, admiring the silky feeling of fur on your cheek as you drift off right to sleep.

When you wake up in the morning, you almost think it was all a dream. That is, until you raise a hand to your neck, and you feel the warm gold necklace dangling from your neck.

Maybe you weren't as unprotected as you thought.

.

.

.

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Teeth

Part 17

Werepanther! Billy Russo x Female Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions of stalking, anxiety, bad dreams, comfort, talks of injury.

You find that packing a bag is a lot harder than anticipated. 

You stand in your bedroom after Billy made sure it was safe, trying to just grab as many items of work clothing as possible. Your eyes drop on the modest blue dress you’d worn with the intention of catching his eye, and your heart squeezes at the reminder of every time he’d abandoned you. You really didn’t feel like doing this, staying with him would be torture, especially since you’d told him earlier in the day that you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. 

There’s a pressure in your throat when you think of him, and yet still, a flutter in your stomach. How could one person make you feel so sad, and undeniably happy at the same time?

You sigh, flopping onto your bed aggressively, feeling the cool sensation of your sheets against your cheek, wiggling to get comfortable and accidentally knocking one of your many pillows off the bed. You reach for it lazily, sitting up and grumbling when you can’t reach it.

Like everything else, you almost miss this, until you remember Billy telling you that he’d left some type of note.

It’s what makes you look, really look, ducking your head under the bed to look around. Tucked in the small space between your nightstand and your bed, you notice the peek of a piece of paper.

You reach for it, squishing your hand into the small crevice.

It’s not much bigger than your phone, and you tilt your head to study what you’ve found.

You know his handwriting, sleek and a little messy, perhaps too many things on his mind all at once.

‘I promise, 

I didn’t want to leave you.

                                -Billy’

Your mouth turns down into a frown, a deep chasm of sadness being carved out inside you. You’re not sure how to feel, but for the first time, you try to think about things from his perspective. 

Maybe he hadn’t meant to leave that night, maybe he’d wanted to wake up with you as much as you’d wanted to wake up with him.

You wonder what that might have been like, opening your eyes and finding him there, maybe still asleep. Just the idea of it flips your stomach.

And the absence of it brings tears to your eyes, longing for something too big for you to name.

Your lip wobbles, your throat tightens, the telltale signs of an oncoming episode of tears.

It’s like a release, letting yourself cry, feeling the lingering sadness and fear find a way out of you.

Desperate, to feel safe and protected.

.

He knows it’s Dinah before she knocks.

It’s a familiar scent,  one of his most significant ‘almost’ relationships- if he could even call it that.

In reality, it had just been three months of fooling around, late nights and early mornings and a constant string of ‘never enoughs’ between them.

She’d put an end to it amicably over breakfast, and he’d understood, even agreed.

That was three years ago.

They’d encountered each other a lot over the following years, even butting heads over keeping clients of his safe once or twice.

Dinah, with her lilac scent, was something of a friend to him, despite the number of times their conversations escalated into arguments. 

Billy pulls the door open to greet her, cup of coffee in hand, she steps in with her hair in a ponytail and her face clear of makeup, having clearly come from home.

“Thanks for coming so quickly.” He says to her.

Dinah nods.

“It’s fine.” She responds, taking a sip of her coffee and sauntering over to the photos still laid out on your counter.

He comes to stand beside her, trying to imagine what she could be seeing.

After a moment, the suspense is too much.

“What do you think?” He asks.

It takes a moment for her to respond.

“Someone is trying to scare her. These photos-.” Dinah gestures at two photos in particular, one of them is taken from a high vantage point, the rooftop most likely, of the alley where you’d been robbed. He can see the back of your head as you try to back away from one man just to run into the other. The other photo is of you and Andrew in the grocery parking lot, he can see the fear in your eyes. He takes a deep breath to reign in the beast.

“-Were picked in particular to frighten her, to show her that he’s always there, in her worst moments. They want her to feel watched.”

He clenches his jaw, it was an analysis he’d already drawn upon, but hearing it from someone else solidifies his anger.

“You think this is sexual?” Billy asks, looking over Dinah’s shoulder.

“I can’t say. They could be getting off on the fear, but the photos themselves don’t give much away, except that she’s being watched a lot.”

Dinah grabs a small packet of gloves from her bag, and carefully takes her time, tugging one out of the packet and sliding it onto her right hand. She grabs a photo, lifting it to her nose and taking a cautionary sniff.

He knows what she smells, ink, paper, and distinctly nothing else.

“Hmm.” She hums, flipping it around to examine the back of it.

He raises his eyebrows curiously.

“There’s no scent on these, nothing discernible. They could be copies for her, and not the ones the stalker looks at and obsesses over. But that doesn’t make sense.”

Billy’s trying to see what Dinah sees.

“Why doesn’t that make sense?”

Suddenly, Dinah pauses and tilts her head.

What now? Billy wants to ask.

“You’re not in any of these.” 

“Yeah?” 

Dinah looks up at him as if he’s supposed to understand something he clearly doesn’t. She looks back down, begins shuffling through the photos with her gloved hands. She stops at a particular photo. 

“Isn’t this your front door?” Dinah asks.

Billy looks over, nodding at the photo of you, standing outside his apartment. He didn’t know when exactly it was taken, but he has a general idea that it might be when he was gone.

“It is.” 

“But you weren’t there.”

“No.” He answers.

At the same moment, something else disturbs his ears. Both him and Dinah turn to your bedroom, listening to the quiet sounds of you crying.

Billy lets out a low sigh of agony on your behalf, he turns to Dinah to excuse himself, but she’s already looking at him like he’s her next puzzle.

“That bad, huh?”

He doesn’t dignify her comment with an answer.

“I’ll be right back.” He grunts, turning away from Dinah.

.

You wipe at your tears hastily when someone, who you presume is Billy, knocks on your bedroom door.

“Yeah?” You say, with a heavy wobble in your voice, crumpling the note in your hand to conceal it at the same moment he opens the door.

You glance up at him, a tear swelling at the corner of your eye.

You give an awkward laugh, looking away as you wipe your eye.

“Sorry, long day.” You mumble, sniffling.

He doesn’t say anything, walking over to you, before gently pushing the pillow that’s beside you away to make space for him to sit. 

You furiously wipe at your tears, a little tired of depending on him to comfort you.

You sniffle, unable to handle the silence between you, opening your palm to show him the piece of paper you had intended to hide from him.

“Found your note.” You say, trying to keep your tone light, despite the shaky way it sounds.

“I’m sorry.” He finally says, in a low way that makes his remorse resonate through your chest.

You smile, shaking your head, wiping at more tears.

“It’s alright, I guess I’m still trying to understand how intense this field of work is.” 

You hear him take a slow breath, still unable to look up at him.

“I shouldn’t be repeating this, but it was my friend, Frank. His son had gone missing. I can’t say much more than that, but I need you to know that I never wanted to do that to you.” Billy says softly, leaning in so that you can hear him.

Your heart squeezes even more, and you finally look up at him. There’s not much on his face that gives away his earnesty, only a look in his eye that begs you to believe him.

“Did everything turn out okay?” You ask, concerned.

He presses his lips together, nodding.

You look back at the note again.

“I guess if there had to be a reason for you to leave, that’s a good one.”

His hand clenches tightly into a fist before you watch his hand reach across to hover over yours. There’s a moment of hesitation before he touches you.

His large hand covering yours tingles almost instantly. His fingers are purposeful in their subtle motion. You watch his thumb sway over your skin. 

You think about turning your hand upward, about the way his palm would feel against yours, like a fire that can’t go out.

But all you can do is think about it, too afraid in the moment to actually act, your chest squeezing as you struggle to decide what you want from him.

“Come on, you should meet Agent Madani. It’ll help you feel better to know she’s on the case.”

You smile, nodding your head slowly.

.

Agent Madani is gorgeous.

It’s definitely not the first thing you should be thinking when you see her, except that you couldn’t logically think of anything else with the way she looks.

She extends her hand out to you in greeting when you’re near.

“Dinah Madani, Homeland.” she says, and you shyly shake her hand, introducing yourself in turn.

“Stalking isn’t specifically handled by Homeland, but I’ll pass the information down to the relevant authorities. This is really just a favour to Billy.” She explains, inclining her head in his direction.

You wonder briefly if they’ve dated. The answer is probably yes.

“I do have some questions for you, about the pictures. Do you mind?”

You suck in a deep breath. Her casualness about the situation helps you.

“Not at all, go ahead.” You encourage.

“Do you have any idea which one of these are most recent?” She says, waving her hand over the photos spread out on your counter.

You examine them closely, immediately picking out the photo of you standing in front of Billy’s home.

“This one was taken Sunday I think.” You answer, pointing at it. You tilt your head, remembering the moment, your most desperate, you think, where you’d given up on calling and texting, going straight to his front door.

You keep your eyes on it, not daring to look up at him, afraid of the pathetic way you probably appear to him. 

Dinah nods, making note.

“Okay, I’m gonna bag these up for analysis, and I definitely don’t recommend you staying here. Is there a friend you can crash with?” She asks.

“She’ll stay with me.” Billy supplies, and you really avoid looking at anyone in the room, pretending to find the invasive photos of yourself more interesting than the silent conversation going on between Billy and Agent Madani.

.

Dinah hits him with an angry stare as soon as you’re not looking.

Billy knows what it’s for. Saying anything about Frank was largely considered a bad idea. Bears were a popular target for hunters, their ability to withstand harsh situations meant that they were always stepping in to protect shifters that couldn’t protect themselves. Bears never turned from a fight, and in turn, protecting bear communities was priority one to all shifters. To take down one bear, was to also take down the hundreds they would protect from harm’s way.

It was no question why Dinah would be upset at him mentioning Frank to you.

But Billy didn’t care. He’d said as little as he possibly could, and you needed to know that he’d had a damn good reason for not staying that night. He needed you to understand that you were his highest priority now.

So, with that in mind, he keeps his gaze calm on the were-cheetah angrily staring at him.

Dinah turns to you after Billy’s little reveal that you’ll be staying with him. She dips into her wallet and produces a card.

“In case you want a different place to crash, give me a call.” Dinah says, extending her card to you.

The predator growls loudly inside his head, drowning out all his thoughts for a brief moment. No way would you be staying anywhere else than with him.

He has a self indulgent moment, where he thinks about seeing you just as you wake up. He curls his hands into tight fists at his sides. How was he going to be able to keep himself in check with you in such close proximity? Was he strong enough to look at you, and not take you into his arms?

He didn’t think he was strong enough now, as he watches you walk back to your room to continue packing.

.

Billy’s place is bare in a way that takes you a moment to realise that there’s nothing of substance used to decorate.

With a mix between blue and grey, the walls of his home stand solitary of anything besides mirrors, that help to make the place seem just a little bit bigger than it really is. As you step in, you’re met with a living room space on your left, the stone grey couches complimenting the walls easily. 

There’s a vintage feel to his place, hardwood floors, with the bannister of the stairs made of some old winding wood, the doors are framed with articulate designs, which make you feel like you’re in a timeless space.

He places your bags gently on said couches, and you follow suit with the small bag of personal items in your hand.

“I’ll show you around a little bit.” He says, barely meeting your eye.

“Okay.” You respond, your voice feeling louder than normal.

The lower floor has a gym, and somehow a swimming pool. The deeper in you move, the less antiquated things feel, and the more modern. It’s not too noticeable to the untrained eye, but you manage to identify what’s new from what’s old.

You stare at the pool in open-mouthed surprise. The ceiling dotted with many tiny lights, giving the impression of a night sky above the water.

“Holy shit, this room is pretty cool.” You murmur, taking a few steps in, admiring the plants that surround most edges of the pool.

“Thanks, I designed this myself, I really wanted something that felt like the forest. I even have a rain setting.”

You turn to watch him move into the room, and tap on a small LED screen. After a few more taps, it begins to rain right above the pool.

“Woah.” You say, feeling a desperate urge to just shed your clothes and jump right in, the rushing sound of the rain tingles your ears pleasantly.

“You’re welcome to use it whenever you like.” 

You turn to look at Billy, your stomach flipping with all the thoughts running through your head. You think about the way he kissed you.

He takes a deep breath, looking away, making a few more taps to stop the artificial rain.

He takes you upstairs next, showing you to a guest bedroom near the front of his home, where you can see the cars passing by on the street, but no sound of them reaches your ears because he’s soundproofed the room for comfort.

Beside your room is his office, and then across from that is a sitting space with a TV. When you look out of the windows here, you can see your building, and you realise that this window looks right into your bedroom.

With absent minded realisation, you acknowledge that this is the window he was standing in, that night when he-

You gulp, feeling your body flush with heat.

You study the window frame, trying to memorise it, trying to imagine Billy standing in this very spot, stroking his magnificent cock, head tilted back… moans that echo through your head from the night you spend together… the way he probably looked- maybe with sweat beading on his skin-

You blink, mouth parted, breaths harsh, trying to rein yourself in, your clit throbbing at the very thought. You swear you could come from just the idea of him alone.

He’s standing behind you, and you hope that you keep a calm, neutral expression on your face when you turn back to him.

His eyes on you make you flutter, you feel like a pair of wings, anxiously flittering under his warm gaze. You find it hard to maintain eye contact.

“You have a nice place.” You whisper quietly, glancing up at him for only a moment.

.

Billy can smell your arousal.

Notes of sweet strawberries in the air, he licks his lips and takes a deep breath, tries to reorient himself. 

He’s growing used to fighting the predator inside himself by now, that demands he scoop you into his arms and kiss you till your eyes glaze over from the bliss. 

He thinks about it, thoroughly, he’d walk up to you, pin your body against the window so that you can’t slip by him, cup the back of your head and press his mouth to yours. He’d sigh in relief, his cock slowly starting to swell as your hands would grip his biceps, trailing up and into his hair. He considers what taking you against the window would be like, only being pulled from his thoughts when you speak.

“Wait, I’m not done showing you around.” He says smoothly, extending his hand for you to take.

He watches you look down at his hand and something like surprise covers your features. He considers he might be pushing it, and he begins to retract the offer of holding his hand.

He doesn’t get far before your hand is slipping into his, giving him a reassuring squeeze that feels like it goes right to his heart.

He tries not to overdo it, turning and guiding you.

.

A little path down from the kitchen and you both reach another bedroom.

“This is mine.” He says, his  voice sending waves of desire through you. 

You blink in amazement at the room.

Dark, viridian walls, a four poster bed with midnight black sheets, you tilt your head and admire the ambience the room mimics. Floating shelves that look like rocks and a couple of lamps in the shape of mushrooms.

And yet still, barely any personal items lying around.

You can count them all in one hand, a few worn books on his nightstand that you trace your fingers curiously over, a watch that’s no doubt triple your salary, and a t-shirt dropped on the bed as if he was in a rush to leave.

Before he came to you, you realise.

“You don’t have a lot of personal items lying around.” You think aloud.

“I’ve heard that before. I just don’t have that many sentimental things.”

You try to smother a fond smile.

“I have the movie ticket stubs from the first time I saw a movie by myself.”

“I hate crowded theatres.”

“I have pictures of Amy and Dani and me at each other’s birthdays.”

“I have Frank’s dog tags?”

You giggle, turning to him.

“I guess that counts. Maybe you have sentimental items in your own way.”

“Maybe I do.”

You want to sit in his bed, instead you settle for touching the sheets, wondering what sinking into them would feel like, absentmindedly, you take a deep yawn.

“You should get some sleep.” Billy suggests from behind you. You look back at him. 

“I’ll show you the rest of my place tomorrow.”

You let out a slow sigh, nodding, before heading to his door.

“Goodnight, Billy.” You say softly.

“Sweet dreams.” He answers.

.

When you leave his room, you find yourself wide awake again.

After a quick shower, you lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to figure out why you’d felt so sleepy in his room, and so wide awake in this one.

You wonder what being next to him again would feel like. His warm skin and his deep breathing, right into your ear, spreading tingles over your skin. You need him, you realise, you need him in every way one person needs another. The only way you’d be relaxed now, is thinking about him beside you.

You only notice you’re asleep when you dream of him.

He’s sitting on the couch outside of his office when you find him. Billy looks up at you with a smile as you approach.

You don’t say a word, climbing onto his lap and resting your head on his shoulder, feeling the peace he radiates seep into you.

The serenity turns into something more when he kisses your neck.

You hum, feeling his hand drift into your hair, fingers on your scalp to ease your stress.

“Despite how much I ache for you,” He whispers, “Right now, I just want to make you feel safe.”

You sigh, letting your shoulders slump in peace.

“If there’s anyone that could do it. It’s you.” You reply, “Billy I- I feel so much for you.”

He says your name on a soft breath.

“I know it’s fast and probably insane but more and more I can’t stop thinking that… you’re so right, and I wonder- I worry- if I’m right for you.”

Suddenly, he disappears from under you. Vanishes into thin air.

You look around, calling his name in confusion. 

In the window, something catches your attention.

You stand, worry in your chest, fear as you approach, your dream consciousness is too curious to deny peeking out of his apartment window.

You can see your bedroom, the curtains have been pulled open, you tilt your head in confusion, knowing that the last time you looked out of this window, your curtains were drawn. 

In the haze of the night, you can just make out the shape of your bed, lilac sheets that do not look quite right, as if you’re seeing it from an angle you’ve never seen before.

Still, there’s a seed of fear inside of you, something is off about what you’re looking at. Your curtains sway in the breeze.

Fear seals itself into your bones when a dark, unfamiliar figure stands in your window, looking back at you.

You don’t realise you’ve jerked awake until the crash of falling glass meets your ears.

You sit up in fright, looking over the edge of the bed to see that you’ve knocked over the glass of water that was on the nightstand.

Your breathing is shallow, still trying to process the last few moments of your dream when the door swings open startling you.

His hair is fluffy and askew, his beard still a little too long and his body bare save for a pair of loose pants.

Your heart is still slamming into your ribcage, and breathing is a task, but you still try to speak.

“I’m fine,” You gasp, “Bad dream.” 

You hunch over, pressing your hand to your chest as you hear him moving around. Everytime you close your eyes, you see the silhouette of someone you don’t know, in your private space, looking at you. Unsettled, your heart pounds, your body betraying you with the way you tremble.

Billy grabs a spare towel from the adjoining bathroom and places it on the floor beside the bed to soak up the spilled water.

You startle when you feel him beside you in the next moment.

He cups your face, urging you to look up at him. For a moment, your still dreaming brain swears he’s going to kiss you. It helps you calm down a little more, though the fear still spears through your chest.

“Wanna sleep in my bed?” He asks softly.

You don’t even think about it, nodding eagerly.

He doesn’t hesitate to slide his arm under your knees, and lift you easily. His strength distracts you even more from your fright.

“I can walk.” You argue meekly.

“There’s glass all over.” He responds, something of an excuse more than anything else.

You sigh, relaxing against him, when he walks past his sitting area and kitchen, you close your eyes and bury your face in his chest, too afraid of what you might see.

You wait patiently till the sound of his footsteps change, from the echo of a large room to the muted footfalls of the rug in his bedroom before you can open your eyes again.

He’s gentle, placing you on his bed carefully, you miss the feeling of his skin, looking up at him with a mix of anxiety and drowsiness.

“I’m scared.” You whisper to him, too vulnerable to worry about how you appear to him.

His eyes are filled with something- molten and warm, concern and understanding.

“Want some water?” Billy offers, and you nod absentmindedly.

You find the strength to be okay with him leaving the room, turning your head to stare at the mushroom lamp illuminating his space.

His space.

You’re suddenly aware that this is his bed, and these are his pillows, and this is where he sleeps and it brings you comfort to be in his space, taking up room.

Your mind jumps back to an image of the dark shadow, and you let out a sigh of frustration. You press the heels of your palms to your eyes, trying your hardest not to cry.

Why was this happening to you? Your thinking spirals, reminding you of all you’d been through. Your head flashes to an image of the serial killer. The fear you’d felt when you’d first noticed him, standing in the shadows, just watching you.

You can’t seem to stop it, your brain going right into the memory of being mugged, your back hitting the wall when you were pushed, the air leaving you now, just like it did then.

He calls your name, and you raise your head.

"I'm alright." You say to his silent question, reaching out to accept the glass of water from his hands and taking a cursory sip.

"Thank you." You say.

Billy sits beside you, studying you carefully while you look into the glass cupped in your palms. 

"Wanna talk about it?" He asks.

You sigh, shaking your head.

"There's not much to say. I'm just scared." 

"Can I help?"

You look up at him with a small frown on your face.

"You're helping a lot already, I'm worried that I'm-" your voice trails off.

He moves a little closer.

"That you're-?" Billy prompts.

"That I'm too dependent on you. That you've become the person that can calm me the fastest. That if you weren't around, I might have spiraled into a panic attack."

"There's nothing wrong with needing help." He supplies, and you nod your head to agree with him, a small frown tugging at your mouth.

"I still feel like a burden though, I'm sorry."

He finally get comes in closer, taking the glass away from you, placing it onto the nightstand beside you. You look up at him in curious surprise when he settles himself into the space beside you. 

He reaches for you, encouraging you to the his hand. You let him pull you closer, wondering what he's doing.

He pulls you into the space beside him, your head resting on his shoulder, your body tucked into his side.

"I know how you feel. I've felt like a burden before."

"Yeah? Will you tell me about it?"

"Well, a good one is that time I got shot. No military training really prepares you for how much that shit hurts."

You smile at his emphasis.

"Frank and I were pulling of some impossible shit when it happened, behind enemy lines somewhere stealing intel or something- the how is not really relevant. But the bullet had been dipped in poison and by all means, Frank had had every reason to leave me behind."

Billy remembers it, the sound of gunfire from the hunters behind them as they'd been escaping. One lucky bullet laced with snake venom and he was basically dead. 

"Frank had tossed me over his shoulder, and kept running. He'd put me down somewhere safe, and went back for the antidote."

Your eyebrows raise in surprise and admiration for his friend.

"When he came back. I told him how dumb he was. He should have let me die, he risked the intel that would have saved countless lives… for me."

You study his face, the far away look in his eye as if he's right back wherever he was the first time.

"Frank's only response was that he'd do it again in a heartbeat."

"He likes you." You respond.

"Yeah, I guess he saw something in me that was worth keeping around." He finally looks down at you, "And maybe, to him in the moment, he didn't see me as a burden."

He cups your cheek, thumb caressing the lines of your face.

"I understand now how he felt, cause I don't see you as a burden. I see you as someone who just needs a little help."

You let out a sigh, reaching your arm across his chest to give him a little hug.

“I guess- you’re right. But-”

“-No buts,” he cuts you off, “I am right.”

You laugh, pressing your face to his chest, feeling drowsiness overtake you.

You take a slow breath, yawning.

“Thank you.” Is the last thing you say before closing your eyes, feeling his body with every sense you have, no longer having to imagine what he would feel like because you have him right next to you, just like you’d always hoped.

.

.

.

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Teeth

Part 14

Masterlist

Warnings: Smut (18+), angst by the buckets.

'We should talk.' 

'I'd rather not.' 

It's been two days.

Two days since you've been in his presence, avoiding every mention and sight of him, making yourself as scarce as possible.

Two days since you kissed him.

Your body heats up at the memory. The way he grabbed you, held you close, returned your feverish kisses with some of his own.

You look down at your phone, swallowing when you see the read receipts light up on the message you just sent.

In true Billy fashion, he doesn't respond.

What a fucking pain in the ass, you think angrily. 

You shake your head, dropping your phone onto your desk and throwing yourself into your work.

This time, you're not worried about possible fallouts, he'd definitely kissed you back, right?

Fuck, what a kiss. Your toes curled at the memory, a spot deep inside you aching, emphasizing the emptiness inside of you.

It was too much, the knowledge of what his mouth tasted like, the feel of his passionate hands on your body.

How could you ever hope to forget that it had happened? Did you even want to?

The answer was no.

You didn't want to forget it, and you didn't think it was a mistake either.

But it definitely wasn't a good thing.

Especially now, when your relationship had grown more strained in the last two days.

Friendship, what a dumb word.

If you weren't still upset with him, you'd probably go back up to his office and grip him by his stupid tie once more. 

You think about kissing him again, kicking one leg over his hip, grinding your body against his. Maybe you'd slip between his legs and pull his thick cock out of his pants-

You gasp, blinking back into reality, aware that you've been staring at the same sentence for minutes now.

You swallow, clicking the document away with a sigh.

You toss your head back in your chair, take a small stretch, try to remind yourself why you were mad at Billy.

Right, he was too indecisive. One moment he holds you close and tells you the most amazing things, the next he's avoiding you.

If you followed through on any of your fantasies with him, there was a high chance that he'd ghost you afterwards.

He probably just didn't like you as much as you'd hoped.

It was a painful thought. 

.

He was watching you.

Like the world's biggest creep.

Billy didn't completely understand why you were angry with him, but it was killing him inside. He needed to know, he needed to fix it.

It had been two days and he hadn't seen you in person since. You'd become very good at avoiding him. 

The absolute torment of seeing you everyday to not at all and all he had was the memory of a kiss that still made his lips tingle and his cock hard.

Now, the only way he could see you was on the little camera feed tucked into a corner wall of the office workspace area.

The camera quality was grainy, really just put in and not monitored unless there was an issue.

Billy had opened the feed five times in the last two days.

It was getting ridiculous, he didn't want another day to go by without trying to talk to you. You'd given him a rather clear message to leave you alone, but he couldn't, not after knowing how hurt you were, and definitely not after he found out how sweet your mouth tasted.

Like fucking strawberries.

He needed to make amends. 

.

You regret not going out tonight when Amy had offered. You could have been at a nice bar right now, sipping on a fancy margarita, laughing with your friends.

But you’d turned them down.

Why the fuck had you turned them down?

Friday night, and you’d just decided to take a bath and lie in bed.

It wasn't so bad, you reasoned, you only wished you were with them because you were in bed. If you'd been at the bar, you'd be sitting there, wishing you were here instead.

You smile, your therapist might praise you for becoming that level of self aware.

When there's a knock at your door, you raise your head in surprise.

Logically, it could only be one person. The one with the appropriate security clearance to make it up to your door without you being informed beforehand.

You take a deep breath, wondering what he would possibly want to say to you at a time like this.

You’re greeted with flowers. 

You see them before you see his face, pink and white tulips, wrapped in a rustic brown paper and some thread that’s looped tightly around your chest just comes loose at the sight of him.

What did you address him as now? William? Mister Russo? Billy? What did you call your boss that you’d kissed in a heated rush in his office during working hours?

“Hey.” Is all you end up saying.

He says your name in greeting, looking down at the bouquet in his arms for a second. 

“May I come in?”

May he? Was this a good idea?

You nod, pulling your door wider and sidestepping to let him in.

“Is there… something I can help you with?”

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He comments, avoiding your eyes.

Straight to the point.

“Yes.” You agree.

He finally turns to look at you, something unnameable in his eyes.

“Why?” He asks.

You give him a smile of apology, eyes drifting to the tulips still in his arms.

“Those for me?”

He nods, extending them out to you.

Your hands brush as you take them, turning away from him to find a place for them.

“They’re beautiful,” You state, “How did you know they were my favourite?”

"I didn’t.” He says, the awkwardness between you is as palpable as if it were a third person standing in the room.

He's silent as you take your time, searching for the appropriate vase to put them in. You press your nose to them and hum happily as the soft petals touch your cheek.

"Would you like something to drink?" You offer, turning to him.

He swallows.

"No. Why are you avoiding me?" He presses, going straight to the point.

You grin quietly into the flowers.

"I feel like you avoided me first." You hedge the question, looking eagerly at him for a response.

He looks a little irked, looking away from you and taking a deep breath, pretending to study your apartment.

"That's what this is about?"

"In part, you just kind of piss me off in general."

He raises his eyebrows in astonishment, still not meeting your eyes.

"Well this is confusing, considering that you kissed me." He challenges.

You wanted to rage at him, curse his stunning looks and captivating personality for pulling you into him, and this mindset of affection toward him.

Instead you suck in a breath.

"I feel like everytime we get close- as friends- you just… you pull as far away from me as humanly possible."

You let out a long sigh, leaving the bouquet of tulips in their spot on your kitchen counter, moving to plop onto your couch in a dramatic flourish.

You grab one of your throw pillows, setting it in your lap and squeezing tightly.

“Of course I’m avoiding you,” You continue, “I’m just expecting you to pull away again.”

You look at him for a moment, as he takes in your words. You can almost watch him process them, eyelids fluttering as he maybe debates internally.

“I’m sorry.” He finally says, coming to sit beside you on your couch. His eyes are earnest and warm, and it takes you by surprise.

You honestly doubted he’s said those words to many people.

“I push you away, I do, when I first offered you the job, you said that you weren’t interested if I was only doing it to get involved with you.”

He swallows, he looks so nervous that your heart almost breaks for him.

“I just didn’t want you to think that was true.” He continues, “You’re a good employee, but the more I get to know you, the more I want to, and I find that very dangerous.”

“Billy.” You say in a measured tone, waiting for him to stop avoiding your gaze and look at you directly.

“I believe you. You’ve made it very clear that you think I’m good for the job and I respect that.”

You can feel something shift between you, the animosity turning into understanding.

“I want to know you better too.” You finish, voice soft, earnest.

He blinks quickly, looking away. You can’t help your body’s response to him, the memory of his mouth on yours sparking up ill-timed tingles.

“I don’t want anyone devaluing your work because we’re close.” He responds.

Chest constricting, you smile sadly.

“I- that means a lot to me. But, people will find any excuse to do what they want. I just want to be true to myself and let the pieces fall where they have to.”

He looks at you, the corners of his mouth pulling subtly upwards.

“So, you forgive me then?”

You reach for his hand, covering it with yours, giving an affectionate squeeze.

“Of course I do.”

He turns his hand upward, interlocking your fingers, eyes drifting down to look at your joined hands.

Tingles spread from where he touches, moving from your arm all the way up to your chest. You gulp, looking at him, studying his face, remembering the kiss.

That damned kiss.

You watch him take a deep breath, and he looks up at you. It’s a long and heated moment and he doesn’t look away, doesn’t pull back.

You don’t know who moves, or if you both do, like magnets being pulled into each other, a force of attraction that cannot be seen with the bare eye, cannot be felt by anyone else other than you.

He’s so close that your noses almost brush. You can feel his warm breath dancing across your skin in little puffs.

"We, we um," You try to focus on anything other than his lips, looking into his half opened dark eyes as you try to speak, "We shouldn't be alone together."

"No?" He asks softly, a little tilt of his head and you watch his eyes drop to your lips, "Why's that?"

"Because..." You trail off.

Because I can't keep myself in control around you, you want to say.

Instead, you close the distance between your bodies, leaning in to kiss him.

A low sigh leaves the back of your throat as your lips meet. You feel your stomach flip happily at the reunion of your mouths.

He groans, the vibrations tingle against your lips, his large hand rising to cup your jaw, warm thumb stroking over your cheek.

You move closer, till you're almost in his lap, your fingers twitch nervously as your hands rest on his chest, sliding their way up into his hair.

You try to fight the urgency, the impatience scratching at the back of your head to just take and take and take.

Your lips part, gently tracing the tip of your tongue along his bottom lip for only a second before pulling back. 

He makes an abrupt sound, drawing back suddenly, breaking the kiss. His movements are so surprising that you lean away from him and allow him the space to stand.

Your heart squeezes as you look at his back.

You're almost afraid to ask.

"Is everything okay?"

He doesn't speak for a long moment, raising a hand to rake through his hair.

"Yes, just wanted to check- are you sure about this?"

You blink.

"Yes, I am... are you? It's okay if you don't like me that much, we can stop."

He spins around as if you've said something positively absurd.

"Like you? You think I don't like you?"

You look down sadly, smoothing a hand over your knees.

"Well, yeah, you, you dismiss me sometimes as if you're not interested. It can come across as dislike, or even a little mean."

"Mean?" He says, taking long strides to stand before you, your head tilting down to follow his form as he kneels before you.

He looks at you for too long, and you have to look away or melt into a puddle under the pull of his dark eyes.

Carefully, he raises his hands to cover yours, smoothing over your skin with the tips of his fingers.

"When I'm around you, I'm usually using every ounce of strength I have to stop myself, to hold back so that I don't scare you off."

He swallows, tilting his head, his eyes locked on your joined hands.

"I want so many things, and you most of all. I've just been shit at showing it."

"You really have." You agree.

A smile pulls at the corners of his lips.

You raise a hand, cupping his cheek softly, thumb exploring the pout of his lips, the scratch of his beard.

His eyebrows draw together, he leans in, rubbing his bearded cheek into your hand.

"I'm worried," He whispers, "That I won't be able to stop."

"I trust you." You say to him softly, reaching up with your other hand to curl your fingers into the collar of his shirt.

"And I don't want you to stop." 

You pull him in then, his body pressed to yours as you seal your lips together in a heated rush. Your body trembles with the sensation of having him all around you, so close like he's the layer of air surrounding you.

His hands cup your cheeks, blunted fingers gripping tight, daring you to be apart from him for more than the space of a breath.

Your insides unfurl with something akin to delight, your toes curl. You lean into him more, accepting anything he's willing to give, and answering with desire of your own. 

You fight to keep the kiss slow, enjoy the way his mouth moves sinfully on yours. 

But it's too powerful, this need you have for him, you want to scratch and claw and submit and surrender and take and it just turns like a tornado in your head until you're biting gently on his bottom lip, tugging on it with careful precision, body pulsing as you hear the low sound that leaves him.

He draws away for a moment looking at you with even eyes.

"You torment me." He whispers, pressing his lips to yours once more, any pretence of slow and careful being thrown out of the window.

You torment me too, you want to say.

He rises, pushing you back until your body lies flat on your couch, and he hovers above you. You keep his mouth firm to yours, fingers tangled in his soft hair, exploring his back and shoulders, and when you part your lips again, jutting your tongue out playfully, you're delighted when you meet his tongue in return.

Your legs on either side of his hips gripping him tight, daring him to pull away from you as he kisses you senseless, your tongues dancing together in wet bliss.

"I could kiss you all night." Billy says between kisses.

You nod, humming in agreement, pulling his mouth back to yours.

Your skin tingles, his careful fingers tracing your cheeks and moving down your neck. 

You arch your body against his eagerly, so willing to give every part of yourself to him.

He slides his hand into the space between your arched back and the couch, keeping your body curved into his, your breasts rubbing against his chest, you wiggle your hips in an attempt to ease the near painful ache between your thighs.

You feel his cock then, stiff against his pants, and he groans into your mouth when your hips chase the firm sensation.

He whispers your name against your lips, a warm, broken sound of a man losing control of himself.

"Billy," You gasp, foreheads pressed together, resisting the heat of desire pulsing between your bodies, "I need you." 

You feel his entire body shudder.

He nods, nose brushing yours as his lips move away from yours, kissing your jaw instead, and then the curve of your neck.

You cry out, his teeth worrying your skin, scraping against your sanity, soothing with gentle swipes of his tongue.

You feel yourself tremble, and tremble further when he moves down your body, frustrated hands pushing your dress up your thighs so that the bunched fabric settles on your hips.

He doesn't move for a moment, and you raise your head in worry to see him staring at the space between your parted thighs intensely.

"You don't have to." You whisper, misreading the expression on his face.

His dark eyes meet yours, he tilts his head for a moment, before his eyes drop to your clothed cunt once more. 

"It's not that." He says, his hands starting at your ankles and sliding their way up your legs, "I've just thought about this a lot."

You bite down on your bottom lip very hard, trying to remain focused, and not beg him to fuck you within an inch of your life.

His hands stop midway between your knees and your ass, and he looks up at you.

"You want this?" He asks.

You almost groan in frustration.

"Yes, yes I really do."

"Tell me." 

You gulp.

"Tell you?" You ask, your head too disoriented to focus on what he's asking you to do.

"Tell me you want me to lick your cunt."

A little needy sound leaves you at his words. You clench around nothing, gathering your thoughts for a second before you speak.

"Billy," You finally whisper, "Please, lick my... cunt." 

A devilish smile pulls at his lips.

"Of course." He hums, his hands resuming their upward trail.

He grips either side of your underwear and you tilt your hips up, watching him anxiously, trying to read every expression on his face.

You know you're wet, that you've most likely soaked the gusset of your panties with your arousal. 

You study him, as he tugs your undergarment off your legs and lays his eyes on your bare center for the first time.

His lips part, eyes dark as he looks at you. You watch his throat bob as he swallows.

Your breath catches as you feel the tips of his fingers graze your wet slit. Your mouth drops open at the gentle sensation.

His thumb finds your clit easily, grazing the swollen bud and you let out a harsh sob, back dropping onto the couch, unable to hold your body up.

"So. Fucking. Pretty." Billy says, so clearly that it makes you ache even more for him.

You groan when you feel his lips on your inner thigh, leaving careless tingles in the wake of his mouth, he kisses his way over your skin, and there's a short moment of pause where you feel a puff of his breath against your aching core before his mouth is on you.

A sweet kiss between your legs, a gentle promise to ease the ache inside you, and then he extends his tongue to slide against your clit.

It's like lightning, the speed at which the pleasure fills you, passing through you, amplifying, with the careful stroke of his tongue.

He groans between your thighs, his first taste of you leading to palms gripping at your thighs, fingers pressing into soft skin to keep you close.

His next lick is firmer, over and over again his tongue swipes over your clit, he makes another low moan, and the next glide of his tongue starts at your entrance and trails up to your clit.

You mewl, hands moving to cover your mouth, then down to cup his hands in yours, any attempt to process the delicious burn of pleasure blooming under your skin.

You sigh his name, you swear he answers with an easy swipe of his tongue.

It’s too much, embarrassingly so because he’s only just begun and here you are- already on edge for him.

Your resistance is futile.

His tongue claims ownership of your most delicate parts.

You never stood a chance.

Panting, your nails clawing at his hands, hearing his low voice hum in bliss between your thighs.

You make another soft groan of his name, it’s all you know, all you can remember in the hazy confines of your mind.

How is his tongue so skilled? How can he kindle you so easily? You are firewood and he’s a spark and now you’re burning just for him.

His beard tickles your thighs, you realised he’s paused his torment to kiss at your skin.

You’re helpless to it.

You can hear each desperate breath you take, it echoes in your ears, and then you let out another whine as he kisses your dripping cunt once again.

Filthy wet sounds as he takes care of you, tantalising groans as his tongue explores between your thighs, mapping places he’s only ever been in your mind.

The inferno rages, and when his lips massage your clit, sealing around it easily, his tongue playing with your swollen bud, you feel feverish with the euphoria.

“I- I’m-” You whimper, trying to tell him, an attempt to get him to understand.

He already does.

Groaning, one hand unfurling from around your thigh to reach his way up your body.

He tugs at your dress, pulling the strap off your shoulder and tugging it as far down as it will go. His tongue doesn’t slow as he pulls at your clothes, until one of your breasts is exposed to the cool air.

“Fuck.” You cry as he cups your hot skin, thumb finding your peaked nipple easily and dancing his thumb over it.

You feel the pleasure arc it’s way down your spine, joins with his tongue, threatens you with pleasure you’ve never experienced before.

You have one brief moment of sanity, where you’re acutely aware that your body is on a precipice, ready to fall at the next touch of Billy’s tongue.

All you can think in that one small moment is, Oh my fucking god.

And then you fall.

Frantic gasps as hot waves of pure pleasure crash over you. You feel the walls of your cunt spasm, clenching rhythmically around nothing. Every movement of your body is involuntary, each tremble and shake is something beyond your control.

Billy keeps the pleasure focused on you, helping you through your orgasm and into barely bearable territory.

He stops his torment when you whimper, pulling his messy mouth from your equally messy cunt, giving your breast another affectionate glide of his hand before pulling back.

You raise your head, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes, watching him lick your arousal off of his lips.

You look at each other for a long moment. There’s that worry in the back of your mind that a clear line has been crossed so severely that it cannot be taken back.

If he has any inkling of your current train of thought, he doesn’t show it, leaning in instead, his fingers gripping your chin softly to keep you close to him.

“If you’d let me, I’d spend the rest of the night with my head buried between your thighs.”

Your breath hitches, you clench around nothing.

He smiles, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, observing your rumpled state, your dress pushed up to your hips, one strap falling off your shoulder, exposing your breast. You look like a proper mess where he still looks mostly put together.

You wanted to change that.

You sit up, sliding your body off your couch and standing on shaky legs. His eyes follow your every movement, and when you bunch your dress up, and tug it over your head, you try your hardest not to be shy about it.

He’s seen you touch yourself before, your mind supplies helpfully, it’s nothing to be naked in front of him.

It definitely helps, the reminder that he’s fucked his fist to the sight of you. You stand naked in front of him now, watching his every expression.

His eyes roam your bare skin, your body tingles at the feeling, his eyes as warm as a gentle touch on your skin. There’s just something about the moment, an understanding, a level of appreciation that’s so potent you can almost feel it.

He stands, takes a step in your direction.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Billy says, his voice low and hoarse.

“Yeah?” You ask, raising a hand to cup the smooth underside of your breast.

When he takes a step toward you, you take one back. You can tell he’s intrigued by the idea of it, the slow chase.

“Of course you are. You make it hard for me to think when you walk into a room.”

He takes another step, and you mirror his movement.

“That sounds awful. How do you put up with me?” You tease, taking more steps back, slowly guiding him into your bedroom.

The corner of his mouth twitches.

“I think about pressing you to the first flat surface and making you mine.”

A shiver of delight goes down your spine.

“Is that why you’re always so mean? Because you’re thinking about fucking me?”

“Obviously.” He answers, before raising his arms above his head and pulling his shirt off in one magnificent display of muscle.

You let out a little squeak at seeing him up close, you almost run toward him, instead of backing away from him. 

Even with his shirt off, he looks so magnificently dangerous that you can feel how bad your arousal is for him. His chest is broad and lined with a delicious amount of muscle, his biceps are near perfection, and your body tingles for a taste. A trail of hair from the spot below his navel into his pants makes you flushed with heat. You imagine briefly what is cock is like, remembering absentmindedly the time he assured you that he was bigger than the large dildo sitting in your nightstand.

What makes him more delectable is the scars that cover parts of his body. There are some on his left shoulder, what looks like a bullet hole in his lower abdomen. You gulp, acknowledging the fact that his flaws only make him more perfect, more mouthwatering.

You almost forget that you’re naked, only gasping in surprise when your back comes into contact with the chilled surface of your bedroom door.

He lets out a slow breath, palms pressed to either side of your body, not close enough to touch, but just enough to make you feel trapped, his warm breath on your skin.

“You want this?” He checks in, tilting his head to the side to observe you.

You nod, looking up at him, he nods along with you in a slight mocking manner.

“I want to hear you say it.” He murmurs, his fingertips tracing your shoulder gently, goosebumps on your skin as he works his way down your arm, taking your hand in his.

Your mouth parts in surprise when he presses your hand to the outline of his cock. You can feel the raw size of him, hot and stiff against the palm of your hand. You realise, in the back of your mind, that he really was large- bigger that you’d initially thought.

“Tell me you want me.” He pleads.

You gulp, hands exploring the stiff erection in his pants, your fingers squeezing around the sides to get an approximation of his girth. Your clit aches with just the idea of his size.

“I more than want you, Billy, I need you. Inside me, so deep that I never forget the feeling.”

He nods frantically, unable to hold himself back, he leans in to kiss you.

You throw your arms around his neck and enjoy the slide of your fingers against his hot skin.

He breaks the kiss for a second, lowering himself to grip your thighs. You wrap one careful leg around his hip, and upon his insistence you transfer your weight fully onto him, his hands supporting your naked backside.

You cling to him as he lifts you, desperate, body aching for more and more of his touch.

You’re not sure how he does it, and you have no time to marvel at his strength before he grips your jaw, bringing your mouth back to his.

You sigh, cupping his cheeks, fingers scratching at his beard, feeling the hairs tickle your palms. You melt into his body, feeling him groan as his mouth moves over yours.

He walks you into your room, and you have no care for your surroundings, your hands too busy exploring his back and shoulders and anywhere else you can get your hands on.

He bends, placing you gently onto your bed, his hands rising to cup your cheeks, and then making their way over every inch of your shoulders.

“God, you’re so soft.” He rumbles against your mouth. You gasp when his palms cup both your breasts in his large hands.

“I could just touch you all damn day.”

He’s so talkative now, and you find yourself loving each word that leaves his lips.

“Touch me all day, lick me all night- when am I getting fucked?” You tease, hearing him laugh into your mouth.

“When you ask for it.” He says decisively, pressing you onto your back.

It’s like he can’t leave your mouth, pulling back for a moment, only to draw back to your lips in a heated  rush. It makes you laugh, your body readily receptive to him.

He kisses your neck and jaw, electric tingles all over your skin, desperate shivers as he cups your breasts, pushing them together and kissing over them. 

You gasp, writhing below him, his mouth on your skin feels amazing, he works his way down and you gasp, your thighs spreading easily when he moves to settle himself between them.

He doesn’t say another word, his tongue reuniting with your clit, swirling careful circles around your heated bundle of nerves. You gasp, arching your back, fingers drifting into your hair.

“Billy!” You gasp, and the vigour of his tongue increases until he’s just flat out making out with your cunt.

Your head swims, pleasure in every essence of your cell and you feel a lone finger drift in careful circles at your entrance.

“Fuck!” You cry, feeling his finger hovering right at your entrance for a long moment. He’s mean, his fingers tormenting you as his tongue licks over your clit at a steady pace.

“Please,” You sob, tilting your hips up, trying to chase the pleasure he’s not yet ready to give.

You try to breathe through it, squirming beneath his body, his hand grips your hip, thumb moving in firm circles to keep you calm.

You shudder in bliss when his finger sinks halfway into you.

It’s not enough, and too much all at the same time. His breath on your mound, his tongue laving lazily at your clit, he curls his lone finger partially upwards, scattering pleasure before withdrawing his finger.

“No,” You cry, “Please please please please fuck me Billy,” Your breath hitches, “I need it so bad.”

You feel him hum, before his finger re-renters you.

“Poor sweet girl.” You think you hear him mumble from his spot between your thighs, and then he begins rocking his finger in you so gently, that it’s almost more of a micromovement than anything. Yet somehow still, he manages to give you pleasure.

“Please please please,” You keep whispering, afraid that he’s going to stop giving you what you need, what you crave for and dream about. He’s every fantasy come to life, tongue rolling over your clit wetly, an easy rhythm of pleasure that he draws out from you leaving no thoughts in its wake.

A broken sound escapes you, desperate, aching, and you think he almost feels apologetic with the way he lines up a second finger against your entrance.

It’s debauchery, the way his fingers feel, broader and longer than yours could ever, makes you feel so insanely full when he carefully pushes two digits all the way into you.

He fills the deepest parts of you, erases any sense of emptiness, makes you forget that you’d ever craved fullness in the first place.

And then his fingers start to move.

Your breath escapes you in a hot rush, mouth dropping open as he starts off slow, painfully slow, rocking his fingers into you, curling them up, making sure you feel every little movement.

His tongue is still playing with your clit, you feel like crying, you’ve never felt this way before.

You say his name, one hand moving from his hair, over to where he grips your hip. You want to hold his hand, and he obliges easily, fingers linking with yours, make you feel so much warmer and safer with him than ever before.

I’ve got you, he seems to say with his actions, go ahead and fall for me.

And of course you do.

Cunt spasming around his fingers, desperate cries leaving your mouth as he winds you up and helps you through your second release.

You whimper, little gasps leaving the back of your throat as your body shudders with the oncoming pleasure. He keeps pumping his fingers into you, and you can almost feel the smile he has on his face, pressed to your cunt. You squeeze his other hand in yours tightly, his thumb smoothing over your skin even then.

When he detaches from your heated centre, you sit up quickly.

You lean into him, pressing your mouth to his frantically, reaching for the zipper of his pants. He tries to help you, one hand trying to work at the button while the other grips the back of your head, but you only get in each other’s way.

You laugh into his mouth as you both fumble, but silently thankful when finally you get his pants undone.

He has to pull away with a grin on his face, climbing off the bed so that he can shove the material of his pants and his boxers off in one go.

You go brainless when you see his cock. Erect and near throbbing, a little bit curved, you feel your mouth water as you stare at the monster between his legs.

He was very right to tell you that he was bigger than your dildo, you swallow nervously, trying to figure out exactly how that was going to fit inside of you. 

Your eyes manage to glance at this thigh, you see a deep gouge on the side of his right thigh, you tilt your head in worry wondering what could have caused a scar like that, one that runs from his hip to his knee.

It must have hurt terribly, and your heart aches for whatever malady he’s been through in his past.

You seek to give him pleasure now, crawling on all fours to the edge of your bed, looking up at him for a moment, before dropping your head to suckle at the tip of his cock.

Billy hisses.

The salty taste of his precum fills your mouth. You can’t help humming at the taste of him. Slowly, you begin to bob your head, taking as much as comfortably possible.

His fingers cup the back of your head, slightly guiding your movements with no real force behind it.

“Good girl,” He grunts, guiding your movements, you hear him shudder out a violent breath, “So good for me.”

It makes you even more aroused, to know that you’re capable of returning the pleasure he gives.

Something shifts in the next moment, and he’s pulling his cock from your mouth and encouraging you into a kneeling position on your bed.

Your eyes slip shut as his mouth meets yours, something frantic inside of him now, and you’re eager and helpless to give him what he wants.

.

Billy can’t fight the predator anymore. The sensation of you sucking eagerly on his cock is too much and his control has slipped beyond his scope of reach.

Your hair is askew as he guides you onto your soft pillows, silk, to protect your gorgeous hair from damage. He pauses to look at you, your obedient eyes, willing to comply with anything he asks and it fills him with an uncontrollable power. The scent of your arousal is thick in the room, the aftertaste of your mouth and your cunt mixing on his tongue until he couldn’t extract himself from you even if he tried.

He hums, pressing his cock against your inner thigh, the heat and softness of your skin filling him with too much want. He’s fighting the predator, that pushes him to claim what was already his, what would be freely given to him if he asks.

.

His nose brushes your cheek gently.

“Are you sure you want this?” Billy asks softly, and you almost want to groan in frustration.

“Yes, please.” You say on a desperate breath, and you feel him kiss your cheek in response.

He takes your left hand in his, kissing at the tips of your fingers and you wonder if after tonight you’d be able to feel the ghost of his lips on your skin.

Fingers intertwined, your legs wrapped tightly around his hips, he uses his other hand to align his cock with your entrance.

“You’ll tell me if it’s too much?” He asks after a second, and you nod frantically, squeezing his hand and daring him to even think about stopping.

“So good for me.” He whispers against your cheek and then his cock is pressed intimately against your entrance.

He stretches you, and opens you up even further until he’s fit snugly inside of you, filling you so much that you’re not sure how you can breathe with the intrusion.

His nose brushes yours affectionately.

“How do you feel?” He asks, as if you’re capable of assembling any semblance of thought.

Your lips part, you suck in a deep breath, the very first, with his cock pressed deep inside of you.

He waits patiently for the answer.

“Good,” You breathe, “So good, Billy oh my god.” You express.

He gives a sweet little smile that manages to get you even more aroused.

“I’m glad to hear it. Ready for the rest?”

The-?

“What?” You ask obtusely.

“My cock, sweetheart, would you like the rest of it?”

You try to raise your head for some type of explanation but you don’t get very far with his body pinned against yours. His eyebrows draw together at your shocked expression.

“There’s more of you?” You whisper in astonishment.

The corner of his mouth quirks up, and suddenly he’s laughing, burying his face in your neck and chuckling away as if his cock isn’t the largest thing you’ve ever tried to take. 

His laughter is sweet though, soft and lyrical and you can’t help clenching on his cock, and hearing his laughter turn into a groan, squeezing your linked fingers.

“Yes,” He gasps, lost in the tight grip of your cunt, “Yes, there’s more of me.”

Your eyes are wide, a little afraid, anchoring yourself to him in hopes that he helps you through your fear.

“Take a big breath for me sweetheart.” he guides, with a steady, calm voice, nodding his head as you accept his guidance.

“And out.” 

You do as he says, and shudder with pleasure as your body relaxes fully, you feel him slide deeper, eyelids fluttering as you discover more and more of him.

Finally, when his hips are pressed squarely to yours, and his cock fills you beyond what you thought you were capable of, does he finally say your name on a heated gasp.

You cup his cheek, thumb grazing over his rough stubble, he closes his eyes and presses his cheek to your palm and withdraws a little.

The first rock of his hips takes your breath away on a frantic sound. You hear him grunt in response, grinding his hips against yours, not moving too much but easily working into you.

“Billy.” You sob, legs tightening around his hips, one hand still linked with his.

He leans down, seals his mouth over yours, rocks into you in slow, lilting movements. You hum against his mouth, feels his body all around you, deep inside of you, holding you hostage and protecting you from everything except himself.

“You take me so well.” He grunts, his hot breath on your lips.

His mouth trails over your cheek, he kisses sweetly at your neck and shoulders.

His pace increases, his delectable body over yours, giving you pleasure that you barely understand.

His hand releases yours for a moment, only to grip both your wrists and pin them above your head, held firm in one large hand.

His grip on your wrist hurts a little, only adds to the pleasure of him fucking you.

He can’t stop kissing you, delving his tongue past your lips and exploring your mouth while he claims your body, hips rocking faster and faster into you the more time goes by.

He reaches a depth inside of you that you’ve never felt before, fills you with himself until you’re sure you’re the most whole you’ve ever been.

His cock pumps into you, your cunt is pulsing, sending large waves of immeasurable pleasure up your spine to fill your head. You feel your thighs tremble as the euphoria makes it all the way to your toes.

He keeps that pace, probably noticing the mindless state of you, your inability to form a single word, or produce a sound that isn't a breathless moan. You feel his influence on you in the farthest reaches of your mind, giving you more pleasure than your body can handle.

Finally, the pleasure sweetened even further, and Billy, in tune with your body, speeds the rhythm of his thrusts to match your needs. You gasp, barely able to find the thoughts, your body overflowing with absolute ecstasy and you’re almost afraid of what falling over the edge with him will feel like.

“Good,” He growls lowly into your ear, a sound you’ve never heard before, untamed, unhinged, and he’s using it to give you praise.

“So good for me.” 

Your orgasm is involuntary. It’s not yours, only a response written by your body to answer his call. The sheer violence of your bliss takes your breath away, you feel your cunt clench hard around his cock, trapping him securely in place as wave after wave of pleasure ripples through you. 

Vaguely, you’re aware of him groaning, but you don’t have the headspace to focus at the very moment. Your arms pinned above your head, his lips kissing at your face and neck, bare nipples grazing his chest and his cock stretching you wide.

Your cunt spasms, your body trembles, and trembles even more when he resumes his fucking, not even waiting for your first orgasm to fully subside before he’s trying to throw you right into the throes of another.

He’s harsher now, and you love it, your body revelling in the way he seems to lose control. He raises his head, you look deeply into his dark eyes. You can’t see much thought behind his eyes either, and you become acutely aware that you might be lost inside each other.

It only makes you that more desperate for him.

.

There’s no such thing as control anymore.

Billy’s lost any semblance of it, any memory of what it was like to be sane. 

He has lost his old self, and he has found you.

All he wants now is to keep you like this, open and vulnerable on his cock for the foreseeable future. Your skin hot with bliss, little sweet cries filling his head.

He leans down, runs his tongue over the top of your breast, hears you gasp, loves the dirty way you love these things, appreciates the salty taste of your skin.

The predator in his head is synced up with him, both aspects of himself agreeing that this is where he belongs, balls deep in his mate, feeling her take everything he has to give.

He feels a completeness, that he can give you pleasure so easily, like his body was made just for you, to please you in every way possible.

He groans again, his voice beyond his control, hoping the low grovel of it doesn’t scare you, but even that makes your cunt squeeze him in satisfaction.

Yours. 

He was yours.

He would only ever be yours.

He adjusts the angle of his hips, and he watches your lips tremble and your eyes water when his cock kisses a very sensitive spot inside of you.

.

You blubber mindlessly, sharp breaths and trembling thighs and you open up to Billy and you take everything he has to give.

You cum with a sharp cry. Eyes squeezed shut, body trembling as you try to process the bliss.

His hot breath on your skin, hips speeding up and suddenly a low grunt escapes him.

You feel his cock pulsing against your hypersensitive walls, you feel his cum, filling up the deepest spots of you and you can’t help the rightness of it.

Eventually, he releases your wrists, still deep inside of you, he braces his weight on his arms so that he doesn’t crush you.

After a moment, his arms wrap around you, adjusting you slowly so that your body rests on his, head on his chest, his cock still buried to the hilt inside of you.

.

He tries to make you comfortable, the biological urge for him to stay inside of you for as long as possible is something he’s never experienced before and he doesn’t know exactly how to control it. 

He sighs, his orgasm still going through him, still filling you up though he doubts you can feel such subtle movements.

You burrow into him, and he hums in amusement, arms wrapping around your form, his heart pounding in his chest at how close you are.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, checking in, fingers absentmindedly reaching for the edges of your hair.

“Wrist.” You say groggily, raising your left hand to his face.

“Fuck.” He voices, his eyes landing on the subtle bruises marking your wrist, he can make out the print of his fingers where he’d curled them to grip you tightly.

“Why didn’t you say something?” He asks, pain spearing his chest at the very idea that he’d hurt you. He holds your forearm gently, examining the faint bruising.

“Loved it.” You reply simply, he can hear the sleepy inflections in your voice.

He’d hurt you… and you’d loved it?

He makes a mental note to get some ice for your wrist, and to check it in the morning to make sure it’s doing better.

Now, he places a gentle kiss to the little bruise, feeling the abnormal heat of it on his lips.

“I’m so sorry.” He says to you.

You hum.

“Loved it.” You repeat.

.

"How is that? Is that better?" Billy asks, a little towel wrapped around a bag ice cubes pressed to your wrist.

You hum lazily, peeking an eye open to look up at him. You’re on your side, facing him, your left hand between you, bent to be in a more comfortable position. 

“Doesn’t hurt.” You mumble, feeling sleep wrap itself carefully around your sated body. Your cunt is sore, quivering still from his use. 

“Just a little uncomfy.” You try to explain.

He looks extremely concerned for a brief moment.

“I’m really sorry,” He tries to apologise for the fifth time.

You smile, shuffling your body closer to his, watching him focus on trying to keep his makeshift ice pack on your wrist. You kick a leg over his hip, not liking that he’d taken the time to put his boxers back on after he’d slipped from you earlier to grab the ice.

“Billy,” You murmur somberly, “I trust you, and if I really didn’t like it, I would have said something.”

“But I hurt you. Our first time together and I hurt you.” He says, his dark eyes so open and sad, hints of a frown turning down the corners of his lips.

You smile, your other hand rubbing his bicep and shoulder affectionately.

“I loved every second of it.” You whisper, unable to keep your mind conscious for a second more. You blink slowly, leaning into his body even more, heaving in a great big sigh.

“Please don’t leave.” You ask, as you tumble into unconsciousness.

.

He leans in, kissing the top of your head, and then your cold wrist, finally understanding that in your eyes, you don’t blame him.

His sweet girl, happy and asleep in his arms.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He whispers, curling around you, the panther purring inside of him as he falls asleep beside you.

.

His eyes flutter open when his phone vibrates on your bedside table. He’d pulled it out of his pants pocket and dropped it there on his way to get you ice. 

You’ve crawled your way mostly onto his body, your head resting securely on his shoulder, he somehow still manages to be holding the melted ice pack on your wrist that rests on his chest, though he’s not sure if it even makes much of a difference right now. 

He’s groggy, not sure if he’s ever been that deeply asleep before, absolutely comfortable, the very right temperature, the scent of strawberries wrapped around him.

He drops the towel- wrapped ice pack onto the floor beside the bed, rubbing his eyes as his phone continues to vibrate. 

He reaches for it, pauses for a moment when his movement jostles you. He holds you tight as his fingers wrap around his phone.

He swallows, squints, slides to answer, keeping his voice soft so that he doesn’t wake you.

“Russo.” He answers automatically.

“Bill.” Frank says, and it’s all Billy needs to understand that something is very wrong.

“What is it?” Billy asks, “What happened?”

“My boy’s missing.” Frank responds.

.

You shiver with the cold, tugging your blanket up and over your shoulder and letting out a sigh.

In your sleepy state, the memory of last night comes back to you.

You smile, extending a hand out to reach for the warm body that had been nearby when you’d fallen asleep last night.

“Billy?” You grumble out, when your hand meets nothing but soft pillows.

No answer.

God, you think, if he left this time I am never going to speak to him again.

You peek an eye open, sighing when there is no deliciously gorgeous man lying mostly naked beside you. 

A groan slips past your lips, you extend your body out, stretching this way and that and huffing when you accidentally kick one of your pillows off of your bed.

You weren’t going to let your hope plummet just yet, maybe he was just in the bathroom, or the kitchen, maybe he was whipping you up a cup of coffee right now.

You say his name louder this time.

After a moment of no response, you climb out of bed, searching for him, finding your apartment empty of him.

You stand in your living room, trying to reason with yourself, trying to find answers for questions that you could barely formulate.

Was this going to be like the movies? When you’d just lost hope, he would pop in with a breakfast bagel and a latte and apologise for leaving you?

You swallow, going back to find your phone and dialling his number.

Voicemail.

Your throat tightens.

Surely he hadn’t made you sweet promises last night only to break them?

When your second attempt at calling him has the same outcome, your mind spins to a final conclusion.

He’d left you.

Again.

.

.

.